Dirty Paws
by SurrealSteamPuck
Summary: Rachel Berry was not afraid of She had to repeat this mantra to herself as she ran away as fast as her short legs could carry The elliptical had prepared her endurance, but never for speed, and even then, she felt her knees start to ache, her legs burn, and her breathe It wouldn't be long before it caught up with *AU where Rachel meets weretiger Quinn*
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Couple of things: this work is inspired by the fanart of konako( konako dot tumblr dot com/post/59522273734 & post/59067079455 & post/59053589271 / & post/58939202068 / & post/59728073452 ) who posts some amazing pictures and I felt i just had to write something.

Two: this started off as straight smut one-shot, but I can't do dub-con, so it transformed into fluff and now multichapter. Oh well.

Three: reviews always welcomed

Four: unbetaed, so if someone betas faberry fics, let me know.

October 31st

Rachel Berry was not afraid of anything. She had to repeat this mantra to herself as she ran away as fast as her short legs could carry her. The elliptical had prepared her endurance, but never for speed, and even then, she felt her knees start to ache, her legs burn, and her breathe shorten. It wouldn't be long before it caught up with her.

Halloween of all nights, she had to cut through the forest to get home. Didn't she learn anything from those stupid horror films Santana forced them to watch. Rachel was an avid reader of tvtropes and should have known better. As a virgin, she certainly should avoid dark, cold places where serial killers liked to hang out as well as the various monsters on the films that didn't exist except for the one chasing her, which was faster than she expected, smarter than she wanted, and Barbara, bigger than she could have imagined.

She wheezed and weaved her way through the trees, trying to just avoid the low branches and knots, but stupid Lima and it's stupid forest preserve and-

Rachel tumbled ass over tea kettle as her feet found the one boulder in the entire forest that her eyes could not see through the full moon. She considered herself lucky as she slid on the relatively empty forest floor - how strange - and coming to a stop right in front of some large tree. Oak? Pine? Christmas tree? This wasn't covered in biology class and what little they did talk about plants was worthless given the focus on the animals. She scurried to her knees and crawled around the large tree-plant-thingy and sat against the bark. Breathing was hard, much harder than singing. This wasn't normally true, but Rachel felt that running through the forest in Barbara knows what direction from some kind of monster-creature right out of her dreams entitled her to such thoughts. It was only fair.

Her legs pushed her against the tree, trying to meld into it so that she was hidden. Rachel wanted to run more, to get up and flee as quick as possible from the much nearer monster, but her body refused. Her lungs burned as they tried to suck as much air into her as possible with each breath, and the breathing exercises she trained ehrself to do before each performance to calm herself fled her mind as quickly as her feet did early, who also refused to work. "Betrayed by my own body." Had she not needed them for dancing, she would have hung her feet at the gallows for such actions. They truly deserved it.

A branch snapped, and Rachel froze. Her arms and legs had pushed her so hard against the tree-plant-thingie that her butt hung in the air. She couldn't breathe, even the deep gulps of air were gone.

It had found her. The thing that had first caught sight of her, she was so certain, outside Puck's place, when she left through the back door in hopes of escaping the horribly drunk jocks there who seemed only interested in grabbing her ass, pressing themselves against her breasts, all the while breathing in horrible beer breath. The party sucked and she was alone in her dislike in it. Every other gleek enjoyed themselves, and once again Rachel was left by herself to defend herself. Hence leaving early and apparently getting stalked by some crazy psycho monster killer beast thingie

Rachel pulled her knees under her and turned so she could look around the tree. The pale full moon gave enough light, even in the sparse forest, for her to see nothing. Nothing was there chasing her; no monster waited for her around the tree to grab and eat her. Rachel giggled and released her breathe: it was silly after all, just her imagination of the harsh breathing, the swift, almost silent, pounding of something as it stalked her. She sat back down, her back pressing against the tree once more and arms wrapped around her knees. It was silly to think that something would care that much about her to play the-

She opened her eyes and stared at the closed maw of some cat-like beast before her. Mist formed out of its nose as it breathed onto her. Onto her. The thing was so close that its nose almost touched hers. The beast stepped forward and pushed its face into her hair. Whiskers grazed her cheek, and Rachel fought a smile down. This was not a good thing; it took a deep breath in and exhaled against her ear. She sighed and almost leaned towards it, but paused as it pulled away, feeling soft fur rub her face as it did so.

The creature sat down close to her, so its front paws were touching her feet. Rachel looked closely at the creature now, trying to understand just what it was that tracked her and why it wasn't killing her(thought she was thankful for that little aspect). It was a tiger, or at least, what she could understand a tiger would be if it was an actual Siberian tiger, but much larger and bulkier than anything she saw at the zoo, though it was probably just a gross miss-representation as she was much closer to this animal than she ever was at the zoo. The thing's shoulders were almost a yard wide, and if it's height was any indication of how long it was, Rachel feared for her safety. The tiger stood at least a eight feet tall, and stared down at her, trying to size her up she bet. Determining just what was the most tasty part of her that it wished to-

"Oh my Barbara," She gasped as her eyes drifted down its belly to the partially unsheathed penis. Rachel figured he was the appropriate gender moniker for the tiger.

He titled his head and looked at her. The stripes glowed, with what Rachel figured should be orange became a yellowish color, somewhere in between yellow and white. She frowned at her inner dialogue, why couldn't she have known more colors. it wasn't like music and singing and dancing took up so much space in her head that colors were unknown to her. Stupid brain for being so limited. She should fix that.

The tiger had moved into her personal space again. Rachel also should pay attention more, she figured, rather than focusing on-

"Hey," she said, and brought her hands up as he began to sniff at her, rubbing his nose on her chest, slobbering on it. "This is a rental."

She wore a black and red cheer-leading outfit that looked somewhat similar to the daily wear of the Cheerios. Santana had dared her to wear something like it, even picked it out for her. Said live a little. Might actually get the attention of some boy besides Finnosarous, or whatever negative moniker she used. Santana had many. Brittany was highly enthused about the costume. Quinn had just smiled at her.

The tiger continued to sniff at her, pushing her arms up as it went for her arm pits, grazed across her neck(where Rachel shivered as the hot breathe pulsed along her pulse), then her chest again, pausing at her breasts.

She breathing was heavy, pushing her chest up against his snout,and Rachel didn't know why. She refused to think why. Because it was wrong. Rachel was certain of it, and it was certain that this tiger was just trying to decide what part to eat of her first. She wish she could run away, but somewhere in her mind, she knew that tigers sprinted faster than humans. It would be stupid for her to run. Rachel just wanted to tiger to-

"Oh, fuck." The tiger had shifted down to her relatively non-existent skirt and was trying to stick his nose underneath. "No," she said, trying to push his face away. "No!"

The tiger pulled back and sat down again, this time closer to her. He lowered his head and looked at her, tilting his head back and forth, trying to understand her. Rachel felt revitalized by her exclamation. She stood up slowly, eyes focused on the tiger's. "Bad tiger," she said.

Standing now, she notice that he wasn't as big as she thought it was, maybe only three, three and half, feet sitting down. Standing now, she was just taller than him. "Bad tiger," Rachel repeated. The tiger lowered his head, and averted his eyes. He was ashamed; and she smiled at that. "You do not force yourself on others like you were going to do."

The tiger shook his head.

"Oh no?" She asked. "What do you call pushing yourself underneath my skirt?"

He smiled a toothy smile.

"You are not going to eat me, and you are not going to eat me," Rachel stood with her hands on her hips, trying to emulate her best Quinn-glare that she could. Cheerleader uniforms were empowering, she decided. "Understand?"

The tiger nodded, though still smiled.

"Good," Rachel replied. She stood for a bit, looking at the tiger. Neither moved underneath the moonlight, and Rachel let out a slow breathe. Her heart no longer pounded her chest rather hard, and her limbs started to shake. The wind blew through the forest, and even behind a tree-plant, Rachel shivered. The tiger stood up again and stepped forward towards. "What did I tell you?"

He didn't stop.

"Please?" Rachel stepped back, and felt the plant-tree again.

The tiger stepped so he was almost touching her.

"You are not going to-" Rachel nearly fell over as the tiger sat down nearly on her. "What are you doing?" He lied down, taking her with him. He curled around her, so she was underneath him, but not crushed by his weight. Her head rested on one of his forelimbs, which was rather taught and she could only guess strong. He was really, really warm, with his legs over hers, hiding her almost now frozen toes. "oh."

The tiger released a breathe and shifted back and forth before settling as close as possible to Rachel, hugging her to his body. He wanted to keep her, apparently. "I don't- What do you want with me?" Which was stupid to ask, she realized. The tiger couldn't speak. In fact, she didn't know if the tiger even understood her. "Are you going to eat me?"

He shook his large head, which moved a mane of sorts, and Rachel found that little part of him adorable. A tiger with a mane, so cute.

"Are you - Do you want to keep me warm?"

He nodded, and Rachel giggled as the fur tickled her face.

"Thank you, I guess," she said. The tiger's heart beat, despite his size, seemed to match her own. She yawned and turned into the giant fur ball-blanket that pulled her closer. It was late, and she was tired, and the tiger probably wasn't going to let her go home. Maybe she could wake up early and slip away before he noticed. At least he was warm.

"Well, we'll talk tomorrow," she said, her words stretching out with another yawn. "Night, tiger." She lightly took some fur in her hand and promptly fell asleep, a little snore escaping her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Authors Note: So I love the amount of people that are interested in this, it actually sparks my imagination to write even more. Hence, this was churned out rather quickly. I've changed a bit, not much, in the previous chapter, just fixed a few things and added a date.

I'm gonna do some time jumps, just to showcase the Unholy Trinity's relationship with Rachel, and lay some ground work for Faberry.

As always, thank you very much, and please review, I love to hear what people think.  
I own the story, the concept belongs to konako on tumblr, characters aren't mine. But enjoy.

****** 

June 1st

Rachel stood in the beauty aisle at Buehler's, looking at the various dyes and bleaching products, weighing them both physically and metaphorically, because metaphors were important. Three weeks of summer break had already passed, and she was bored of her current schedule. Not so much the singing and dancing and acting, but the lack of people in her life. She sat down the first day of break, made a schedule that included socialization time, ensuring that her time was spent efficiently and effectively. A problem arose when no one else seemed interested in spending time with her, or if they were, which Rachel figured they were just being polite, her acquaintances were just being polite.

Because that was the best definition she could determine at the moment. No, she didn't want darker hair, maybe highlights, which meant the choices on her left were out. They weren't her friends, because, from every definition she could determine through research involving both dictionaries and the internet, the people hung out with at school didn't seem interested in spending time with her. Even her boyfriend avoided her, which was okay, she guessed, at least they texted and talked almost nightly, maybe. Just not that often this past week. Which was okay. It was fine, and she wasn't upset by it.

No, animal testing, not kosher. Kurt talked to her occasionally and met for coffee when it was good for him, and it was just expected that she would drop what she was doing. Mercedes was spending time with Sam before he left, while the rest of the Gleeks had found themselves busy with various other things and plans, and certainly activities that did not concern her.

Rachel had a taste of friendship her junior year, and enjoyed the emotions and support greatly. Even though she was a bit of a diva, she wanted to continue that experience and turn the friendly acquaintances into more. The how as difficult to figure out. She wasn't very likable, and she was aware of how aggressive and controlling she could when she got excited about things. It hurt, the react from people she knew, but it was okay. One day, Rachel Barbara Berry would be a household name; she would be famous and amazing and eventually loved. Rachel just had to repeat it to herself and tell herself that her future would be enough. It had to be. Until it wasn't.

She wiped a tear away, and put the bleach back on the shelf. Maybe blonde wasn't the way to go, what about pink or oh, blue tips, that could be-

Rachel turned to look down the rest of the aisle straight into the chest of Santana Lopez, almost falling over as she tried to avoid touching the girl. She looked around, taking in her surroundings and attempted to determine the quickest means of escape. The problem was that Santana wasn't alone; the other two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity. "I-um-why-" Her words failed her, which was fine, because she mind failed her as well, leaving her with no thoughts or anything to deal with her worst tormentors in high school.

While Glee had lessen the names and taunts and general hatred to the diva, Rachel had found, despite numerous, well-intended, awkward extending of the olive branch in pleas of friendship had fallen on two pairs of deaf ears. Brittany at least seemed interesting in befriending her, but didn't want to go against her pseudo-girlfriend slash best friend, leaving Rachel once again an outcast, even in the group of people who were just losers like her.

The girls had dressed in somewhat normal clothing, though the low tank-top and extremely short shorts on Santana bordered on indecency. Quinn was dressed in a lovely pale yellow summer dress, her shoulders bare and perfectly smooth. Brittany modeled tights that ended at her shins and a shirt that barely hung on her shoulders, showing no bra. Alone, without any of her normal protections like an animal-sweater or stars, or anything really. Not that they worked, but it was the thought that counted, right? She had come straight from a dance lesson, and was tired and didn't bother to change out of her work-out cloths, something that seemed foolish now.

"What up, hobbs," Santana asked, smirking at her. Brittany reached down and picked up a box that Rachel must have dropped or held on and didn't realize it or knocked over.

"Oh, you want to be a blonde?" Brittany asked, examining the model on the front cover of the box. "You sure? Because, its more trouble than its worth. Especially with how it drains your brain."

The smirk that embodied Santana disappeared as her attention turned to the taller girl. "Excuse me? Who told you that, B?" Brittany lost her smile and looked away. "Was it man-hands here, she tell you that bullshit idea?"

"No, Tana," Brittany said, her voice barely audible. "It wasn't Rachel."

"I'll deal with this later, first things first," Santana said, the glare now focused onto Rachel. She fought a shiver of fear, and tried not to look into the girl's eyes. "I want to know what makes you think a simple dye-job would make you even remotely attractive, dwarf? You think that it's that simple?" Rachel focused on the Latina, refusing to let the vocal abuse -

"Even in glee, you still are dragging us down into loserville with you, which despite your extremely short stature and child like proportions that make a pedophile cream his pants, it's a fantastic accomplishment. I mean, the schnoz and that mustaches you delude yourself into being small is enough to distract me at times, since I can't seem to focus on anything except the middle of your face, except when you open your mouth, however small it may be, which probably upsets Finnocence since you can't even fit his pinky into it, releases out a tone that can destroy the will to live." Santana paused for a breathe, before continuing her tirade against the little diva.

She had hard these things before, in many different ways, often accompanied by a slushie, though rarely were they direct at her face, and certainly never this many at one time. Some part of her wanted to shrink down into herself, avoiding the looks of hatred and disgust that were so common at school. But she was away from that hellhole, if she could be so bold. Rachel was suppose to be safe and free from that. Santana ignored that Rachel was ignoring her, but it wasn't exactly ignoring. It was despair and sadness stepping over the line where it was just too much.

"Fuck you," Rachel said, interrupting Santana midword and hand wave, which almost brought a smile to her face, but she was tired of it. There was no rage: her body did not shake, or pulse race, or eyes focused on anyone. In fact, she closed her eyes. Rachel was too tired to keep them open.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, Fuck you," Rachel replied. In a penny, in a pound, she figured. It wasn't like she wasn't going to get slapped, so at the very least, she wanted to get her say in, however mean and cruel it would be, even if it wasn't her.

"Oh you did-"

"I did, because you are a bitch, no that's insulting to female dogs, you are fucking slut; you can't say thing a single thing that isn't vitriolic or destructive." Rachel leaned against the aisle, and fought to stand up. She was exhausted. "You are hatred incarnate and can't begin to understand anything that doesn't hurt or is enjoyable. You have sex with so many people probably because somehow you think the physical tingle you get from a mediocre orgasm will ever mimic what actual happiness feels like. A bitch at least will understand loyalty and love and devotion, while you-" A giggle interrupted her and Rachel opened her eyes to the surprised look on Santana's face.

"That was so hot," Brittany said, but Rachel kept her eyes on the Latina, in fear of retribution. "Wasn't it, Tana?"

Santana's surprised look slide slowly into a smirk, like a wolf who had found a weak, tired bunny and was ready for a meal. "Took you long enough, Berry."

"I resent- What?" Rachel said. She was not expecting approval. Or happiness if she was reading the emotion right. Or anything remotely positive. "What do...huh?"

"She's not bad when she shuts up," Santana continued, giving her a quick glance up and down. "I'm sure we can make this work, right Q?" Rachel spun to look at head cheerleader.

Quinn hadn't changed much since New York: short and chopped hair that just sat around her face, drawing the attention to her, without revealing anything. She wore no make up, no lipstick, nothing to hide her face. The smile was new though; a real small that lightened up everything about the blonde. It was nice to see. The former head cheerleader just nodded.

"Good, come," Santana said, picking Rachel up by one arm and Brittany did the other. They were carrying her out the store before she realized that she dropped her bag and- oh, Quinn picked it up and was behind them, with that damn smile on her face.

"Wait, are you kidnapping me?" Rachel asked. Her fathers had wished that she took self-defense in order to ensure her safety, but she decided that the time spent in a dojo could be spent in a studio instead. Stupid choice. "I'll have you know-"

"Relax, Berry," Santana said, "We're not kidnapping you, we're taking you out to lunch. It'll be fun."

Rachel frowned as they carried her to a car; the Unholy Trio would never want to take her any place that didn't involve her humiliation. In fact, she had a hard time convincing herself that they weren't going to take her to some deserted area, probably a forest and finally make her disappear, as often they wished. Rachel backed away from the passenger side door as Brittany entered and then the driver's side, pulling herself in as much as possible, hoping to put some distance between her and the girls.

"My..my..what about..." she said. She couldn't breathe, the air was so stale and stiff and it tasted horrible, oh Barbara, was that bile, she was going to be sick, her stomach was churning, boiling over and bouncing up and down, though she didn't move, oh my Barbara, the room was darkening, it spun around and around and around-

"Breathe, Rachel," Quinn said, cupped her head and stroked her cheek, "It's okay. I promise."

******

November 1st

Rachel yawned and pulled her body pillow closer to herself. It shivered and shook, and frankly, it was annoying her when she actually wanted to sleep in. While five days a week she had devoted herself to being up early and exercising and generally the best she could, Brittany explained that she would hurt herself if she continued at that pace, and she didn't want to see that. So Santana threatened Rachel to slow down and relax. One of the benefits of having friends she supposed.

"Aww," Brittany's voice echoed through her dream, "They look so cute together." Rarely did she dream about that blonde, but it happened before and Rachel wouldn't complain about those dreams.

The body pillow shivered again as a breeze caressed her. Rachel shifted to her side and pulled it closer, burrowing her face into its neck. It also shifted and caressed her leg with it's own. She decided it felt nice, and this dream could continue as long as possible. The body pillow was warm, though it shivered constantly, which shook Rachel and would wake her up. She tightened her grip, move her head so it was just under its, and pressed her chest against, trying to share their heat.

"We should take a picture," Santana's echoed somewhere. "You know, for blackmail and shit."

"That is a mean thing to say," Brittany replied.

"It'd be funny, though," Santana said. The two would not let her sleep. Why were they even in her bedroom this early. The sun was doing nothing to keep her warm. Usually five or six blankets did that. But she had none, here, apparently, which was stupid and inconsiderate of wherever she was. That is a problem that should be fixed.

The leg continued to move, and despite the cold, Rachel felt a warmth between her and her pillow. It felt physically stiff, but texturally soft, which was an interesting combination, but still, it made her warmer and she wasn't going to complain. She pressed hard against it and her pillow moaned, its chin pressing down on her head so Rachel was forced down a little bit, her mouth just about the clavicle of her pillow.

"Standard bet says she freaks," Santana said.

"She who?"

"Berry. Berry'll freak."

"Kay, sounds fun."

The stiff, warm rod continued to move against her stomach, and Rachel smiled against the soft skin. This dream was wonderful, and never had her body pillow...felt...like...She opened her eyes and stared at the pale, perfect skin that was pressed to her face. Arms wrapped themselves around her head and the legs tangled with her. The thing, well, things that interested her the most was what could only be defined as supported by that bride movie she watched over the summer with the Unholy Trio, alleviating the world of its "shortage of perfect breasts." They were much smaller than her own, but Rachel could only stare as they rested on top of her own. She felt the warm between her body and the other girls and -

"Holy fuck!" Rachel rolled away, jumped up and pulled her cheerleader top back down. Laying on the ground, still sleeping despite the rather echoy scream as she normally did, was Quinn Fabray, hottest girl in all of Lima despite what Santana liked to say, and a...a...penis was between her legs, erect despite the cold (Rachel liked to think herself well-read so she knew of the issues of cold had on the male anatomy).

"Damn," Brittany said. "Tana wins."

"As always." Rachel turned and looked at the couple. They looked no worse for the wear. The cold wind bit at her, and the cheer-leading outfit she rented and needed to return before the weekend was over did little to protect her. Santana and Brittany wore heavy winter jackets, boots, the works and held a bag.

"Who...what is... I don't..." She pointed down at Quinn's appendage and the sleeping blonde before shifting to pointing at the couple. "Did you...how is...what?" Rachel nearly fell over a root of a nearby plant-tree thingie as she stepped back, trying to put as much space between her and the strangeness, because she wasn't ready to deal with this. And strangeness didn't explain the tiger that chased her, if that wasn't a dream. If it was, then how did she end up outside with Quinn, who was naked and buried her hands under Rachel's top, tangled up her legs and rubbed an erection against her bare stomach. Rachel hadn't decided which was worse, if there was an even worse situation here(or if she was upset that she was woken up when enjoying the warmth of Quinn, but she wouldn't admit that yet. Warmth was nice. Shut up, brain. You're not longer aloud to talk).

"Berry, I always love when you can't speak," Santana said. "Its so..." She shivered with an expression between a smirk and pure enjoyment. "nice."

Brittany slapped Santana's arm lightly, though had a smile on her face. "Be nice. Quinn's probably cold."

"Right," Santana replied. "Berry wake her up. Sleeping Beauty style."

"What?"

"You've seen the Disney movie right? Just kiss her and she awakes. I'll be cool. I'll have video evidence of it."

"The original fairy tale involved the prince raping sleeping beautiful, Aurora mind you was her name, and she only awoke when giving birth, the baby pulled the thorn out," Rachel said. The two cheerleaders stared at her. "Sorry."

Quinn muttered something and rolled to her stomach. She rested her head in the crook of her elbow and waved behind her with one hand, shooing other three girls away. Santana sighed and stepped forward. Without even a preamble, she slapped Quinn's ass hard. The sound echoed the almost empty forest, and Rachel smiled; she couldn't help it. It was a nice sound.

"huh?" Quinn raised her head slowly. "Whtshppnng?" She rolled over to her back, her eyes covered by one of her arms, the other just laid there. She didn't seem concerned by the penis that was sticking out where her clitoris should be.

Quinn Fabray was the least morning person Rachel knew. Everyone else was at least somewhat conscious of their surroundings and the world. Rachel was one of the few people she knew who had a zero to five hundred, as Brittany liked to put it, in the morning. Quinn preferred to slowly ease her way out of slumber, and by ease, that meant remaining in her bed as much as possible before falling out and crawling to the kitchen for coffee and bacon. Rachel had seen it. It was a funny as it sounded, since Quinn actually crawled one time. She wasn't even hungover or anything.

"Wake up, Lucy Q," Santana replied. "It's morning."

"Cold." Quinn said, her eyes refusing to open.

"That's cause you're buttass naked."

"Pillow?"

"She stood up. And is still staring at your cock." Brittany slapped Santana's arm again. "What, Berry is." Rachel pulled her eyes away, turning around and crossed her arms. This was not happening. This was not happening. This- "Weren't you, hobbit?"

"Nooo," Rachel replied. "I was just-"

"Santana," Quinn growled. An actual growl that reverberated in within her body, and for a brief moment, Rachel was warm again, from the tip of her nose down to her... "Cloths."

"Right, sorry." The girl actually seemed contrite, sorry even. A bag landed somewhere near by, and Rachel listened to the rustling of cloths and a few grunts. "Better?"

"Yes," Quinn said. A coat wrapped around Rachel's shoulders and she turned around. "You're freezing."

"This isn't-" Rachel started, but Quinn pressed a finger against her lips. She stared at the blonde. Quinn was always a bit taller than her, but now, it seemed like the girl was even taller. In the bright morning sun, Rachel could see faint blue lines across her bare skin, from her face down to her, stop looking there Rachel. Despite wearing sweatpants, Quinn hadn't buttoned the flannel shirt yet, which just hung around her breasts. The erection was still evident too, which Rachel fought with herself to keep her eyes off of it. Like now.

This was too strange. First being stalked/chased by a male tiger, then almost sexually assaulted by said tiger, then the tiger decided it was her blanket, then waking up with Quinn as her blanket, who had a penis. That didn't exist over the summer. Rachel would remember seeing the girl with a penis when she wore the thong. It was a very clear memory. Very clear.

"You're freezing."

"Yes," Rachel said. Though her teeth shook and lips felt numb. Winter had come early, and it wasn't even Westeros. She couldn't deny it. Finally pulling her eyes up, Rachel could only see concern and a faint smile on the blonde. She had cut her hair sometime during her punk phase, but at least she took out the pink highlights. It didn't suit her complexion like a light blue did or maybe a pale purple. Damn sixteen bit color scheme.

Quinn looked around and sniffed the air. "We should get you warmed up. It'll probably snow today and I need coffee." She turned away, starting to walk barefoot in the forest and buttoning up her shirt. Santana and Brittany followed her, but Rachel refused to move.

"No," she said softly. Rachel knew she was being silly and childish. But this would not fly.

"Excuse me, princess?" Santana asked.

"I said no," Rachel repeated. "I want answers."

"You will get them," Santana said. "When we're warm." She glared down at Rachel, despite almost being the same height, which was a great achievement and never failed to make her feel small. The Unholy Trinity were her friends, but three years of insults and torments had its effects. Quinn stepped in front of the Latina, giving her a brief raised eyebrow.

She stepped closer to Rachel, and she felt again the small, insignificant loser that she was, a small scared bunny under the gaze of a predator. She was used to this feeling, didn't mean she liked it; it was suppose to be in the past. It was. "Rachel."

"Is this why you..." She stuttered for a second. "Is this why you weren't around at the beginning of school, why you avoided me? Because of..." Rachel waved up and down. "The penis?"

Quinn said nothing, but stepped closer.

"Or was it the tiger thing? Where you terrified I'd run away? I'm assuming that the male tiger I was chased by, which is your fault by the way because it was dark and scary and you were big, and still are I guess, but the point is you hid this from me. From me." Rachel nearly screamed the last bit, but kept her voice down. It was one of two money makers for her, and she'd be stupid to ruin it.

"Rae, I-"

"We're friends, aren't we," Rachel said, and looked down. She couldn't let the former Cheerio see the tears, not after surviving three years avoiding them see her break. "Or was this a giant joke to play on the loser of McKinley, the girl everyone hates. Just build her up, pretend to be her friend, and then when she's finally close to being happy, lie to her, hide from her, avoid her, and then scare her so much that she runs through a forest filled with insects and bugs and things that crawl, not to mention numerous roots that she could have broken an ankle on, effectively ending her career before it began. Oh Barbara, I forgot about the bugs." She rubbed her arms, quickly, trying to scratch them and push the non-existent things away.

"no, no," Quinn replied, "Rae, I swear." Rachel looked up to see Quinn standing only a few feet away from her.

"AM I really that horrible to be around?" Rachel asked. She avoiding looking at Santana who small lines in her make up, or Brittany's shattered happiness replaced with silent sobs. "I know I'm difficult, and it can be really annoying when I get excited, but I thought, you guys helped, I mean, I'm not – please, Quinn, this isn't some joke is it? I'm not-" Rachel was pulled into a hug despite being a few feet from Quinn; at least, she was a few feet. The blonde had wrapped her tightly, and Rachel fought the nightmares she had since the three of them befriended her, trying to avoid the thoughts about how when she finally had friends, actually friends, not just acquaintances, they would leave her.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Quinn said. Rachel wasn't. She couldn't not in front of the three worst tormentors in school, well two and Brittany. She hadn't before and refused to now. The train of thought didn't stop her silent gasps of breathe, her heaving shoulders, and eyes squeezed shut as much as possible.

"please," She begged, and wrapped herself tightly around Quinn, "I... I..."

"I"m so, so, so sorry, Rae," Quinn said. "I never meant to hurt you. Not after the summer, not after we finally got to know each other. And I am so sorry about everything we ever did to you. Nothing can remove the pain and sorrow we made you suffer, but Santana and I wanted, want Rachel, we want to make it up to you, even if we never can."

"Rachel, I'm," Santana said, having stepped so she was right next to the diva. A hand covered her shoulder and squeezed it tightly. "This wasn't suppose to happen this way. You weren't suppose to-

"Find out?" Rachel asked, her words escaping faster than she could think, which was amazing given how her mind accelerated so quickly now, until she couldn't hold a thought in her head. "I wasn't suppose to know about Quinn having a penis, or being a tiger sometimes, or-"

"No," Santana said, "you weren't suppose to find out this way. Quinn wanted to tell you, I wouldn't let her."

"Why?" She turned in Quinn's arms. The girl refused to let her go, which Rachel was okay with, because she didn't think she could stand. Her face was wet, but she didn't know why; it wasn't tears, she was certain of it. "Am I not-"

"Oh sweetie." Santana rushed forward and hugged her tightly, adding herself to the hug. Brittany followed suit, and rested her head on Rachel's shoulder. "No, we trust you completely, it's just-"

Brittany spoke softly, her words almost not reaching Rachel's ear. "Quinn was terrified you wouldn't want to be around her, so she ran away. Tana just wanted to ease her back and slowly let you know." Rachel shook her head in defiance. "Yes, she did. Quinn was gone for so long, being a skank and all, and it hurt when she came back, even if she did, because she wasn't there for a while and now she's back and with us and-"

"I'm sorry," Rachel said.

"Rachel, you should never have to apologize about this," Santana said.

"So you're not made about me being..." Quinn trailed off. Her head must have been just above her own, which was weird because that certainly wasn't true before. Brittany was the tallest of the trinity, not Quinn.

"No, I'm not," Rachel said. "I'm mad that you felt you couldn't trust me, and that you felt that it was something to be ashamed of, and that it's pressing into me now, isn't it?" Her face felt really warm all the sudden.

Santana jumped back out of the hug. "God, it's like you're a teenage boy. A stiff breeze will give you a stiffy."

"I am teenager, Satan," Quinn laughed. It was hearty and full and feminine, and so Quinn that Rachel didn't even realize how much she had missed hearing it. She gave Rachel one last, long hug before pulling away. "Come, Rachel's cold, I'm starving and Brittany probably wants Lucky Charms."

"Fruit Loops!" Brittany said, joining her girlfriend and picking up her pinkie with her own, swinging their linked arms back and forth, as though nothing was wrong. For the moment, there wasn't. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Author's Note:

My god this took forever... granted it's almost 7k worth of words, and I struggled and rewrote many different parts, but still. It's been like what five days? I've writing in my spare time between school and work, so yay! Fanfic.

Thank you everyone for your interest, and I hope I live up to your expectations.

Couple of things: 1) I've been working on a faberry, possibly faberrittana or fapezberry, pokemon crossover: would people be interested? 2). the Quinn section I'm torn on, so opinions would greatly appreciated on that topic. 3). Had I been the owner of Glee, we would have had Faberry by season 2 at least and the issues of season 3 & 4 would not have happened. But I don't. So i'm sad.

Enjoy people and as always: read and review.

Because I can,

SurrealSteamPuck (WeOffendedShadows)

June 1st

Rachel had gotten herself under control. Well, it would be more accurate to say that Quinn had gotten her under control, and she just went along for the ride. Santana drove someplace, rambling on and on and on about something that Brittany was either agreeing or disagreeing with. She wasn't sure. The words didn't seem to exist in her mind, just sounds that happened to reach her ears. Rachel was alone with two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity in a strange car headed to a strange place probably do something horrible and-

"Tana," Brittany said, "she's not breathing again."

"Oh for fuck sakes," Santana replied. "We're not going to kill you, hobbs."

Rachel didn't, couldn't say anything. The words left her again, leaving her with just sights that she couldn't explain and sounds that made no sense. The place she was in moved quickly, or at least was, now the world around her was slowing down, turning slightly before stopping completely. Things were around her, of some shape and some color, and they just hung about watching her, while the two other human-shaped figures moved in the front seat, one shouting now, something strange, demanding that-

"Rachel," Quinn said, "I need you to breathe."

Rachel took a deep breathe in and closed her eyes. Quinn didn't touch her again; she didn't know how she could handle that if the cheerleader did. The kindness would be too much. There was a figure leaning close to her, in the backseat, Rachel remembered, that was where she was, in the backseat of a car that Santana was driving to some place unknown.

"Good, good," Quinn said, "Just take it-"

"I will not let you kill me," Rachel said, trying to keep her breathe even and hands still, refusing to cross them in front of herself.

Santana barked out a laugh. "Like you could stop us." Rachel opened her eyes and glared at the Latina standing just behind Quinn. Rachel was seated as far as she could from the driver side, placing as much distance possible between her and Santana, her arms wrapped around her legs. The former cheerleader had climbed in next to her, kneeling and looking like the serene angel she tended to, when she wanted to. But Rachel knew of the demon that lived in her, the one that showed her face in Santana every day, and how they perverted poor, sweet Brittany to their evil way of thinking. She would give them no-

"Rachel," Quinn said, and she turned to look at the blonde, "Relax, it's okay, we're not going to hurt you." She turned slightly to the other two. "Go." Santana frowned but nodded. Brittany clapped once, a bright smile on her face, before taking the Latina by the hand and practically dragged her away.

"Is this some kind of game, Quinn," Rachel asked. "Did you kidnap me and take me just to lose me in a forest, or – no, you're not going to kill me, are you?" Quinn shook her head. "Strip me naked and leave me out her to be eaten by bears or cougars or wolves, because then technically you didn't kill and still could keep your words and I-"

Quinn sat right next to her, legs almost touching, in the middle seat of all things. Why was she so close? Rachel fought herself, willing her heartbeat to slow down, to stop her hands from shaking, to just keep still and not like the predator see her fear.

She locked eyes onto, staring into her own. Rachel just looked into the pale blue eyes, hoping to see something, anything that would release her from the hold the Head Bitch in Charge had over her. Quinn Fabray had power, real power, not star power like Rachel would once have when she escaped from Lima where she could gather fame and fortune in some order of respect, but rather the power that the ice queen of McKinley possess drew a person in and would ground them into dust and ash without a second thought. It could raise a person into the sky with just a simple smile and crush them back onto the earth with brief frown. She commanded the masses to do her bidding, and when she fell back in sophomore year, monsters came forth and threatened the school, until she took charge again. Not even Santana or Brittany could do what she could.

All of that power was directed at Rachel, and she was happy that she was sitting down, or her knees would have given way and she would have a hurt behind.

"I'm sorry," Quinn finally said.

Rachel blinked.

"I can never take back what we. What I did, to you," she continued. Something flashed in Quinn's eyes, a brief reflection of some liquid. It was probably venom being readied to throw at her. There was nothing she could use readily in her defense, but Rachel was wily. "We made freshmen year hell for you. And a most of sophomore and a bit in junior.

Rachel remained silent.

"I made it that way," she corrected. The venom was transferred from her eye to her hand with a quick swipe. Rachel pretended not to see it and reached for the door handle. "Me. And you continued to survive the hell I push onto you. The slushies, the taunts, the pictures-"

"Pictures?"

"They've been removed. Nothing real, just some drawings in a few girls' bathrooms." Rachel knew of those; she was worried of photograph or film that some pervert decided to take of her and post just as means of destroying her future. That would have been too much. "I fixed that last bit, painted over every last bathroom just to be sure." The smile was a distraction; don't get pulled in Rachel.

"You lived through everything, and nothing ever seemed to get you," she continued, "until I stopped looking and actually started seeing you. Until Santana and Brittany helped me see just how messed up I was." Lies, don't listen, don't listen, it's all- "This is just some of it, but I wanted to make amends to the people I hurt, especially you."

"So this is a ploy to make yourself feel better?" Rachel asked. "Fine, apology accepted. I'm leaving." She reached behind her to grab the handle, to escape into the freedom that was only inches away; her attention focused on the minute opening of the door. Close to the open world where there was no monsters in human skin to hurt her.

"I deserve your hatred," Quinn said. The voice, the beautiful notes that always made her smile, sank into her, settling hard into her stomach. Rachel had spoken to herself so many times with the same tone, the same heaviness, while looking into the mirror each morning, lying to herself that things would be better, that they could be better. "I deserve everything that you could throw at me, and more. And it wouldn't be enough."

Rachel said nothing; she refused to look towards the former cheerleader.

"It wouldn't be enough to take back anything. Frannie said, it would never be enough." Who was Frannie, was this another cheerio? "No matter what I did, I could not erase the past."

Rachel leaned forward a little bit. This was a pity party and she wanted – a sniff. A soft, weak sniff pierced everything and she froze, unable to move. She turned around in her seat to see tears, real tears, on a heartbroken face of the beauty queen, who had some trouble with herself. "And I don't," she said, fighting back a sob, "I don't want to erase it, because if I did, it would mean I would have never had Beth, and that was the best thing that had happened to me. I wouldn't trade it anything for that, even though she's...even though I don't... with everything that worked out the way it did, it was the for the best, for-"

"For the best?" Rachel slide into Quinn's personal space. "Everything you did to me was for the best? The pain you put me through, the fear of the slushie, the torture and terror you gave me everyday. That was for the best? Who the fuck do you-" A hand covered her mouth.

"I meant my life, Rachel," Quinn said; the tears had stopped, and Rachel tried to figure out how her make-up continued to look perfect despite the tears that had slide down her cheeks. It wasn't fair. "I meant being kicked out and thrown to the bottom of the shit pole that is the McKinley High social hierarchy. I meant my father being... who he is. The shame, the depression, the slight psychosis, all of it was worth it to bring Beth into the world, even if I never kept her. And I understood. After New York, I finally understood.

"The high school bullcrap, the things that I thought made me so much better than you, than anyone else," Quinn frowned, "None of it mattered. Everything that mattered to me was worthless. Prom Queen, Head Cheerio, president of the chastity club, Miss Perfection, Miss Beautiful, Miss Wonderful. The Ice Queen. I opened my eyes, really opened them, the first day in New York, though it had started early, and had no idea who the dead and empty girl was in front of me. The lonely girl with sad eyes. And for a brief moment, I knew that I caused you to look like this. Not Santana. Not Brittany. Me. And I can never forgive myself for that."

Rachel licked Quinn's hand, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She sighed heavily and glared at her, before the blonde pulled her hand back and smiled apologetically. "Then why are you here? If you think that what you did was so unforgivable?"

"I want a new start," Quinn said.

"Hence the hair?"

"That and other things," She replied. "I want to be your friend, like you've offered so often and I've been the bitch who neglected that friendship or flat out turned it down, or, worse, used it for my own advantage for some pity high school drama."

"You want... is that?" Rachel lost her words again. She would have to keep better track of them if this was going to be a continuous thing. Because it was times like this when she needed her words.

"All of us," Quinn repeated. "Brittany has always wanted to be your friend, but Santana agreed, though she'll lie through her teeth if you ask her, that she wants this too." She reached down and took Rachel's hand with the one she licked on it. "We, I believe that had things been different that first week, you not absent and my father not who he was, we would have been great friends. So let's fix that. Please."

Rachel stared at Quinn, trying to mask herself with her hard "I'm-a-1920's-gangster" face. From Quinn's expression, it either worked really well, or didn't. She would have to practice in the mirror later. "I reserve the right to run away."

"Of course," Quinn said, "You were never that gullible, or you would have fallen for some of the more stupid, cruel pranks the jocks wanted to pull our freshmen years. Oh, don't look so surprised." She reached forward and picked up her hand. "Come, the food should be at least ordered by now and Santana''s probably wondering if she has to hide a body or something."

Rachel didn't move when Quinn slide across the seat towards the driver side door. "It was a joke, Rachel."

"Are you sure? Because you - that does not seem like a topic people joke about, and I've seen the history channel with their programs on cults and I'm too young-"

"Dead bodies aren't until the third initiation rite, so don't worry yet. We'll make sure you're ready before it comes to that."

Rachel froze again; her face suddenly cold and that cold draining down her body, pulling her hand from Quinn's as though she was burnt. "Seriously, you'd think-" Rachel just nodded, and Quinn slide back to the diva. "I swear, it's a joke, we've never done something like that, certainly never to you"

"Oh," Rachel replied. "I just thought-" Numerous times Santana had threatened to kill her, even jokingly, though she never took them serious, until it came to the moment they were brought up again.

"Friends will joke and tease each other." Quinn smiled, and she couldn't look into it. Wouldn't, because that would mean the Ice Queen had you in her sights and knew just how to hurt you.

"I've never had that with people." Rachel looked away and finally saw the parking lot they had pulled into. "joking and teasing I mean. Friends too, I guess."

Quinn picked up Rachel's hand and rubbed her thumb along the back. "You have three now. And that will never change." She reached across her body and pushed the door open. "Out, Santana is Snix when she's hungry and it's hard to tell when that bitch of a person will show herself."

"Huh?" Rachel asked, stepping out of the car, though Quinn hadn't let go of her hand yet. The blonde flowed out and closed the door in a single motion, as though it was always meant to be that way.

"It's okay," Quinn said, smiling down at her. Rachel was just shorter, not by much, but freshmen year had created such an idea of Quinn, that she was a little surprised at how small the girl actually was. Not small-small, but Rachel had always seen as a larger than life figure that crushed stars like her. Today, the ice queen, who's black hole-heart had been focused on Rachel so long, looked human, and it frightened her, but a good way, she assured herself. Because if Quinn Fabray could be human, then she certainly could be something else, maybe more than a star.

Because stars were lonely. She learned that in elementary school. Sure there were planets and stuff that circled around them, but they were never with others of their kind. It was their duty to shine and shine and shine, warm the hearts of planets and things, but stars were left to be by their lonesome selves. She cried she got home that day, until Daddy explained the differences between Stars like Sol and Barbara. But the metaphor remained; high school was just planets and asteroids and debris circling around her, and she was long in the universe, even when the rest came to be interested in the things she was. It was okay, it had to be, because one day she would be like Barbara not like Sol, but Sol was bright and strong and beautiful in its own way, and Rachel could accept that.

But she didn't have to any more. Now, Sol was a binary star with at least one other people, maybe three, to keep it company in the ever growing and dying universe. It wasn't alone any more.

*******

November 1st:

Rachel couldn't fight the cold. She had tried before, even threatening use of actual weapons, but it always seemed to win, to creep under whatever layers she wore and into her body, sapping her energy. Despite her birthday and Hanukkah being in the beginning of winter, it was too gray and dull and empty for her to enjoy, despite the happy-face she showed often. It was just a matter of getting through the three months of evil. She could do it. Except when it became more. It was November and Autumn(not fall, because that is a verb not a season) ended much early than she wanted and the temperature dropped until she was sure frost would from as they walked, solidifying them in place

Quinn held her hand as they walked through the forest, in some direction, with the edge just beyond their vision and approaching too slow. She walked barefoot and had slowly lost height as they exited. The pair had to pause every couple of minutes as Quinn adjusted her cloths, rolling up the pants and sleeves as she shrank. "Aren't you cold?" Rachel asked. The forest was too quiet, even for early morning winter-November-not-Autumn, when the animals slept in hopes that spring would arrive and warm up their bones. Rachel hoped the same thing.

The tigress, or was it tiger given that the form was male and Quinn possessed, or was it still presence tense, too much to think about, focus Rachel, turned slightly, but never dropped her hand. "Hmm?"

"Bare feet?" Rachel asked. Quinn smiled softly.

"I'm kinda used to it," she replied. "It's not the first time that I've had to deal with being naked or mostly nude during cold months."

"How do you-"

"Can we hold off the 20 questions until we're inside?" Santana said. The pair of cheerios had stepped back, talking softly in their own little world. Unlike Quinn and her, they at least wore clothing suitable for arctic terrain, which Rachel believed was necessary to deal with the weather: thick coats, gloves, and boots. Rachel was left in a thin-clothed rental cheerleader outfit, with flats on because the heels seemed ridiculous and made her ass look even better and she was already highlighting so it was better just to leave good things alone. The coat she was given didn't do much, and she could really use tea, or vegan hot chocolate, or coffee, or something warm. She'd probably even drink a warm glass of milk right now, those poor tortured cows.

"Fruit loops," Brittany said.

"That's right, you promised Britt's fruit loops, Q," Santana replied, "and we wouldn't want to disappoint her. Would we?" The glare was leveled at Rachel, as if she was the one holding them up.

"Of course," Quinn said. "We're almost out. The Berry's is just few more minutes after that."

"my..my home?" Rachel paused, but Santana just shoved her to keep walking.

"Yep," The Latina said, "Told your dad all about you taking care of Quinn when someone spiked her drink, it's why you weren't home at your curfew, which who the fuck still has a curfew at seventeen?"

"You do," Brittany said, "Mami would have been upset with us, but-" A hand covered Brittany's mouth before she could continue.

Rachel missed this. The joking between the three of them, how Santana acted like she was brutal and evil and mean,and she was, mostly, but when it came to Brittany, the anger just slide away, reveling the person she should be had she not had to protect the one person in the world who meant the most to her. Brittany was a ditz at school, and she perfected the persona so well, it was hard to tell if it was an act, except around her friends, she didn't have to pretend to be the dumb blonde or that she wasn't or that the things she saw, the way she saw the world, was strange and odd.

And Quinn, Barbara, Quinn was no longer the ice-queen, though that changed over summer, when she apologized to Rachel for everything. Life and brightness and joy and kindness and things that Rachel had a hard time finding words for, but probably knew the notes better than anything else, and the songs she could sing, but the point was Quinn was more like the girl she should have been.

They all were. McKinley, and Lima in general, was a soul-sucking town and turned people in the worst version of themselves. The Unholy Trinity was the prime example, making them into this caricatures of themselves all in the name of what? Popularity, cruelty, peer pressure, fear. All of it just destroyed the person they were meant to be. Brittany liked to say that she saved them, that befriending Rachel was the smartest thing they had done, but Rachel thought that they were far more braver than she ever was, willing to hang out with the Lima Loser that she was, even if she was going to be a star at some point.

But Rachel had friends(FRIENDS!), and she wouldn't trade that for anything. She went through a great deal and having these people-

"Come on," Santana said, pushing her again, so her feet moved faster than she wanted to, then she really could. They had lost feeling a bit ago, now that she was no longer curled up in the tiger's warm embrace. "I'm cold."

"You're cold," Rachel asked, though her words came out as just letters she repeated for a moment and strung together. She tried to take another step, but arms picked up and the forest started to move quickly around her.

"You should have told me how cold you were," Quinn said. She was being carried like a bride as the blonde ran out of the forest and onto the street, her street, if Rachel recognized it correctly.

"I'll-I'll-I'll-" she tried, but couldn't finish her words. Rachel wasn't that cold, just enough that her toes were starting to hurt and her hands were rather numb and her legs tingled just a little bit and maybe her face was burning from the winter-breeze in November, which was so wrong she couldn't find the words for it.

"Be fine once we get you inside." Quinn broke no argument. The Head Cheerleader had returned, and with it was the Ice Queen herself, capitals included even in her own inner dialogue. "You're fathers are worried about you, Rae, and I think we should make sure they know you're okay, right?" Rachel nodded, leaning against Quinn, wrapping her arms around the blonde's neck and tried to pull herself close as she could without unbalancing the girl. The warmth in the crook of Quinn's neck was nice, and it at least took some cold away from her face. The flannel felt wonderful against her hands, maybe she'd pick some up and use it as pjs; would Quinn give her this shirt, because that would be awesome and-

"Dear god," Leroy Berry said. Rachel opened her eyes to see her fathers standing in the door way, but closed them just as quick. She didn't get enough sleep with tiger-Quinn. More was required. Like now.

"I don't think it's hypothermia," Quinn said. She slide past the men and into the living room. "Does she have an electric blanket or something?" She placed Rachel down on the couch before throwing the throw blanket over her, giving her at least some other source of warmth.

"Of course, up in her room," Leroy said. "Hiram go-"

"On it," The man rushed up the stairs wihtout another word. As he came down, Santana and Brittany arrived, the former wheezing slightly.

"Fucking hate running in the cold," she said, and looked up into the small smiles of the Berry men. "Oh shit, I mean, I'm sorry."

"She always this cold, Mr. B?" Quinn asked.

"Winter is not her season," he replied. He walked around the couch and sat down next to his daughter's feet, sliding them into his lap. Quinn had not released Rachel's hands. When had she picked them up? "Doctor's say due to her smaller size and being exhausted from, well everything. Santana and Brittany have helped curb most of her insanity this year, but given that she's trying to get into NYADA-"

"She's practicing too much, again," Quinn said. Rachel tried to argue but just rolled on her side so she was closer to Quinn.

"Chica's been a wreck some days," Santana said. She stepped into the room and stood over the couch, resting her elbows on as she looked over Rachel. "Stopped her from doing something stupid with the elections, mostly, and B and her have been helping Kurt out. The audition went well, but-"

"She's one hundred percent one hundred of the time, right?" Quinn said. She brushed some hair off of Rachel's face; the girl tried to follow the hand as it pulled back to take up hers again., even though her head barely moved.

"Yep." Quinn sighed.

"Let's get the rest of you warmed up," Leroy said. Rachel tightened her grip on Quinn. Now, if she would curl up next to her, she would no have problem being warm. Even juts touching her hand, Rachel felt some heat being to grow inside her.

A blanket covered her body, and artificial warmth followed. Rachel sighed and snuggled in, pulling her hands inside. Fuck winter-November. Always ruining what she wanted. A light snore followed, and she could have sworn a soft kiss on her cheek by soft, petite lips, but that was probably just her daddy being gentle. Maybe.

******

Quinn knelt at Rachel's side for a little longer. She wanted to touch her again, but there was no longer and excuse to, in fact, there was barely a reason for her to remain at her side, but Quinn didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to stay next to the girl who had become important to her.

Two hellish months without her three favorite people in the world but she needed it; Quinn Fabray needed to determine who she was without the people who mattered, without anyone else pressuring her, even passively, with their expectations. It was also a time to try to determine just what the hell happened over the summer. She needed to know her truths.

Judy Fabray had taught her daughters how to hide and control the tiger within them, the lineage they had of the First that had walked as human, joined the culture, to follow a love that She had not known before. Where as Frannie preferred and accepted that she was a female human more than a tiger, Quinn reveled in the secret form she owned, something her father could never control. They were not were-tigers, though it would be easy to mistake, given that she often accepted during the full moon. Her mother called it that: accepted that your form was not human, but tiger; that you, the girl, was really a dangerous feline. The traits and personalities of stereotypical creatures bleed into both forms, because Quinn was both girl and tiger at the exact same time. Appearances just changed.

Her hand stretched out for a second, before she pulled it back. Rachel wouldn't like to be treated this way, she told herself, repeated to herself, just to try to stop her from giving whatever warmth she could to the diva, even if only a hand on the forehead or cheek.

Quinn Fabray was born a female human; it was a truth that she had never questioned. Nor had she questioned the fact that she was also born a female tiger. These were facts that were ingrained into her body as much as her natural eye and hair color. Cosmetically, it could be changed, but these were truths for her. And her body responded as such.

Because Quinn had known she was female as an accepted truth, she had given birth to a wonderful girl after a stupid mistake. The girl was not blessed as she was, to remain and know only what a human would know, but nevertheless, the brief moments that she held her child were her happiest moments she could remember. Not even the few blessed good memories of her father could compare.

The months that followed, well, year really, if Quinn was being honest with herself, she struggled. Giving up Beth had been the hardest thing she had done, and she regretted it but regretted that she regretted it. The tiger that she was hated the decision, viewing it as a betrayal of everything she was. The human that she was knew, without a doubt, she had made the right choice for her child. Quinn was not ready to be a mother, to care completely for another life, no matter what other emotions she felt. Thus, to control the anger and the sadness of her tiger-side, she did not accept it any more, she could not, lest she lose control and destroy things that her human-side cared for.

She did not remember most of Junior year. Brief flashes of moments that hid themselves away because Quinn was only part of herself, an ice queen and head bitch in charge. These were her accepted truths now, they had to be. She knew she could not cope otherwise.

But prom came, and her dreams were shattered, everything that she was meant to be, broke down. For the first time in over a year, Quinn accepted her tiger-self and ran into a heavy first where she cried and cried and cried. She mourned giving up her child, mourned that she could no longer be a standard student. She mourned that she was completely and unavoidable different that everyone else, and she would struggle with both of her-selves daily. These were her truths now.

Through out all of her struggles, even though she was a bitch and horrible human being, Santana and Brittany never left her side. They fought, they bickered, they disagreed and backstabbed each other, well, it was more Santana and her, Brittany was a peacemaker between them. Quinn was not alone, despite how much she felt some days. New York was a chance to change, having left Ohio for the first time in her life to a place that was bigger, louder, fuller than she ever had known. The smells alone were invigorating and distracting, but she enjoyed every second of it. The place had sparked a new idea of her truths.

The little snore was so Rachel, soft and gentle, an almost musical quality to it. Quinn pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, almost covering the diva completely before she sat back down and watched over her.

A hair cut was the start. But like an addict who was detoxing off of their drug of choice, Quinn needed to detox off her bitchiness. She needed to make amends, even if it was with only one person. For three years, she and the Cheerios saw to it the suffering of one Rachel Berry. Never had a person made her so angry just by existence, and Quinn never questioned her anger, her hatred, her dislike. While getting to know the girl through glee, something at the time Quinn had hated, had lessened most of the negative emotions she felt, they would have never been friends had the loss at Prom not occur. Had she not broken down in the forest and question who she was and why she did what she did.

It took three weeks to gain the courage to speak to the girl, to find the reason and intellectual understanding of why she should apologize. It took three weeks to convince Santana that it would be better for both of them, especially them, if they took away the dislike and hatred of the girl. Quinn figured that Santana argued with her just to be contrary. While Rachel would be gaining them, she knew that the Unholy Trinity would be gaining the diva, and she always felt the only girl who would really escape Ohio, the only person to never break under their horrible gaze, was something great and wonderful. It was part of the reason why Quinn tore the girl down; she hated beautiful things.

Maybe that was why she disliked mirrors.

For most of the summer, the Trinity were Rachel's only companions besides her fathers, sometimes together, sometimes just one of them with her. They had to earn her trust and friendship, and Quinn knew it would be difficult, but she loved to see the short brunette smile, really smile, not the stage one she used most of the time. It was the brightest thing Quinn had seen, Rachel's smile lit up a room and made heavy hearts finally lighten their load. The task of becoming friends, of accepting the girl for who she was, and helping the diva lessen the diva-nature and bring out her true self was worth every insult she received, every lingering doubt that looked upon her, every question to understand why they were being so nice. The distrust was earned, but in the end, Rachel Berry had become a friend.

The time spent of Rachel had been one of happiness and contentment. Where Santana and Brittany would cuddle together during their movie nights, Quinn was left with Rachel and holding her throughout most of the scary movies the Trinity seemed to love. They hung out the most, with Quinn attending some of her events and practices, an effort to support the girl. And somewhere along the way, she noticed just how beautiful the girl was.

That was when a new truth formed, one that altered herself in a way Quinn had not expected. Before she was a female who had always been attracted to males, her truth that she had never waiver from, never questioned, because it was what her father had taught her; it was what was normal. But with Rachel, some more questions, some more doubts formed in her mind just what she was and who she was attracted to. Santana and her talked one night, and with Quinn trying to figure out just what she was feeling, since the girl was the only person she knew who had similar struggles until she had accepted who she was. The Latina helped her and held her in her tiger form as Quinn cried at a new truth for her, another one that altered just everything who she was: she was a female who had fallen for Rachel Berry, the sweet, kind, driven girl with a tendency for insanity and obsession and wordiness.

The truth almost broke her because it was also a truth that Rachel was straight. A truth that had sent her running so hard and so fast, because she couldn't look back. "Q?" Santana said. The tigress looked over to her friend. "Best stop staring at her, you're getting a bit creepy, though Britts says it's cute."

Quinn stood up slowly, stretching to her feet in a single motion. Her eyes found the diva again, taking in that she was safe, she was warm, she was happy if given the smile on her face. She fought the desire to lean down and kiss her forehead, as though a parent would a child, or more accurately, as a lover would their heart. But it would be wrong to do so. Rachel held no interest in her. Her heart sank a bit further, the tiger wanting to express it's sadness, but she held it in. Now was not the place to pity herself. A Fabray felt no pity or remorse, even towards herself.

Inside the Berry kitchen, everyone stood around the island, warm cups in their hands. Brittany was eating a large pool, her teeth crunching on the colorful cereal, a smile with each spoonful. Green tea and sweet coffee drifted around everyone. "Here," Hiram handed Quinn her cup, a large one, almost a bowl really, but the light green was picked out by Rachel, and it always brought a smile to her face when it was in her hand. As always, it was filled with warm, whole milk and a dash of coffee with cinnamon sprinkled in it. 

"Thanks," she muttered, receiving the cup-bowl and smiling as she gentle sipped the warmth. Quinn was not cold, but the drink always reminded her of Christmas when she was younger, when her father was not who he was and her mother had not accepted her truth that she was a drunk and obedient housewife, just to keep a semblance of peace.

"So," Leroy said.

"So," Santana replied.

"So," Hiram added.

"Buttons!" Brittany said. Quinn snorted and tried to hide her smile in glass, but still felt the glare from the Latina.

"How was the party?" Leroy ignored the outburst, but smiled at the blonde. The real question he was asking had more to deal with why their daughter was out until morning and how come she was so could.

"It's my fault," Quinn said, speaking before Santana could say anything. The clock in the study down the study, the groups' breathing and heartbeats, and Rachel's gentle snore were the only sounds she could hear. No one spoke or moved. If it was just Rachel, it would be comforting, but the silence always annoyed her. "Someone slipped me something, I don't remember when or what but-"

"Rachel was the one who noticed," Santana continued the lie. "Took care of her until morning when we walked over here. Got rather cold too, so-"

"Why is Quinn still in this," Leroy asked, waving his hand up and down at Quinn's outfit, "costume? Where is her shoes?"

"Lost them," Quinn said. She honestly did. "I don't really remember where, but Rachel found these cloths for me..." She let her voice trail off and looked away. It was better to simply lie here, then try to explain that some jock had followed Rachel out, who left because she was bored and only the drunks were hitting on her while her friends ignored her(some by design, others by accident). It was better they thought the story instead of knowing that Quinn shifted to frighten off the would-be rapist and chased Rachel because she wanted to know if the girl was okay. Sometimes, it was better that the truth was not known.

"Did," Hiram started, shook his head, letting the question go. "I'm glad you are okay."

"Me too," Brittany said. "That party was kinda sucked anyways, so Tana and I left early. Sorry we weren't paying attention to help." The girl looked so sad and distraught, which only made Quinn glad it was just a lie. She was also glad that Brittany knew how to lie and hide things better than Santana or herself.

" I am fine, really," Quinn replied. "Is it okay if I hang out here today, though?"

"Of course, just later, kay?" Leroy said, nodding with a large smile on his face. "In fact, we're glad to see to you again. It's been a while."

"I've been working through some things."

"I can see that," His eyes drifted up to her still short hair. At least it was not pink any more. "Are things better?"

Quinn smiled her good-christian smile and nodded. "I've accepted a few things about myself, and slowly being folded back into the group."

"What she means is that she's no longer being a bitch and now wants to be friends again," Santana translated. Quinn turned to glare and growl, but Hiram's laugh broke her anger.

"You will never clean up that tongue, will you Santana," he asked, and it was Brittany's turn to snort. The brunette cheerio turned a bit red,as much as her tan skin could blush, at least, and she looked away, at least trying to act embarrassed. "Maybe that was the wrong thing to say."

The Berry's were the first people Brittany and Santana had been open to, especially since they offered to answer questions they had regarding their treatment in a small, bigot-minded town like Lima. Though times were changing, people tended to be a bit slower than that. But the men had accepted the pair and opened their door to any thing they needed, even if it was just a space to crash the night. Though they banned sex in their house, something that Quinn was thankful the two respected. She remembered Rachel's blush at that conversation and how cute she looked. 

"She's said worse," Quinn said.

"And done worse." The proud smile on Brittany just made her girlfriend blush even harder.

"Well," Leroy said, coughing and turning away, "sadly, Hiram and I do have to get some work today, so if you girls don't mind, you can come back later, okay, when we're home. Not that we don't trust you, but-"

"No prob, Mr. B," Santana said. "Rules are rules, plus Mami and Papi are probably worried sick about us."

Quinn said nothing. She was unsure how Judy would take her late night. Despite their commonalities, their relationship was a bit strained since being kicked out. It was slowly being rebuilt, but things were slightly better.

The other issue was she did not want to leave Rachel. If only for her own sanity. But needs must, she supposed. Plus actual cloths would be a decent separation and barrier for her own desires. More layers meant less likely she would do something.

"Quinn?" Brittany asked, placing a hand on her arm. She spoke before she did so, making sure that the girl was aware of what was happening, aware of her surroundings. It took once when another Cheerio surprised her for the other two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity to understand do not touch her when she was unaware. "We'll give you ride, yes?"

She just nodded. Brittany clapped her hands and started to pull on her. "let me say goodbye first?" It was plea, and Quinn knew she sounded desperate, but she could only hope that neither her friends or the Berry's noticed. Santana raised an eye brow, but nodded.

She walked swiftly, her feet barely touching the floor as she gliding into the living room. Quinn crouched down in front of Rachel. Some of her hair had fallen over her face, and the diva twitched her nose in trying to remove it; Quinn pushed it away, and a smile grew on Rachel's face. She leaned into the hand, and she was worried she woke the girl. But the little snore did not stop.

"I'll be back," Quinn said, "later." When she could get herself under control and stop the desire to touch and hold and protect Rachel. "Be safe and warm."

She left the Berry's without another word, standing next to Santana's car parked on the street, as snow fell slowly around her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Author's Note: So... I have no idea why I'm writing this fast, or this much. Well, I know why the latter; smut is fun to write and I tend to extend it more than I should.

I'll probably catch flack about personalities here, but honestly, I think it works well given what we knew about Rachel and Quinn from canon. Rachel is a control freak, and Quinn tends to do what she is told, especially by authority figures.

Anyways, I don't own the characters. As always, please read and review. I would love to hear from all of you follows. Comments help me know if I'm doing right or wrong by you guys. The audience matters just as much as the content. If people stop enjoying this let me know and I'll work to make it wonderful once more.

Enjoy folks, and remember: Rated M for mature ::spoken in video game voice

******

September 1st:

School had started a week okay, and Rachel was unsure how this had been the worst possible school start to date, despite the fact that she now had people she considered friends(FRIENDS!). She stood at her locker, and a small smile grew on her face, and for the first time in high school, she let it. Prior to her senior year, happiness was not something she worried herself about; the time period in her life spent at McKinley High School in Lima Ohio would have been just a footnote in the outstanding and riveting biography of one Rachel Barbara Berry, Broadway Star and EGOT winner.

But her summer had changed everything she thought in her life. Three new friends, despite her current uncertainty about one of them, had come into her life and refused to leave despite her brand of insanity. The Unholy Trinity was one of the best things, previously worst, things in her life. For a while she thought having friends would actually be better than singing, which she also had believed to be an impossibility, but nevertheless felt certain that it came really, really, really close, and she kind of liked that.

Except for August being the worst month in a long time. It was August that Santana and Brittany left for cheer camp. Rachel had thought Quinn was joining them, but apparently, the girl had never shown up, a fact that could not have been relayed to the diva until they returned from same due to inability to contact the outside world while on the trips. Apparently, the first rule of cheer-leading camp is don't talk about cheer-leading camp. The second rule is very similar. A weird group, but she had known that since freshmen year.

Rachel closed her locker and hugged her books tightly to her chest. She had been given a new locker this year, something about mixing things up and having the seniors help the freshmen in their new school. It was really just a ploy by the megalomaniac named Sue Sylvester, but Rachel could neither prove nor disprove that the cheer-leading coach had done something to split up the Gleeks.

August also was the worst month she had to endure because her boyfriend had decided now was a perfect time for her to start paying attention to him. It was probably due to that she had stopped texting Finn towards the end of July, as he had yet to really reply to her or agree to any of the dates she wanted to have, or even just hang out with her. Rachel figured that was what summer was for and didn't want to pressure him by being nagging and a constant presence in his life, even if she was just his girlfriend, at least she thought. The month before school proved that the train of thought was correct.

Finn returned to her life, and it was nice again, to have a semi-attentive boyfriend, even if he never understood what she was talking about, and she him, and often he was get bored easily with what she wanted to do, or just plain rude. But having a boyfriend, especially popular one was nice. Speaking of-

"Good Morning Finn," Rachel said, her arms wrapped around her books in front of her chest. She wore a plaid skirt with her favorite sweater, it was Friday, after all, and she deserved to reward herself with a well-made stitched unicorn and pink sweater.

"Hey, Rach," Finn said. He stood over her, staring down, but his eyes weren't on hers. They were focused, as usual, on her v-neck, trying to look at her bra(black and lacy, picked out by Brittany of all people). She sighed and pulled her books up a bit higher.

"Walk me to class?" Third period science was just a few hallways away, and it was just a few doors away from Finn's class. He had walked her every day thus far, but it was always polite to ask.

"Umm," he replied, "Not today."

"oh," Rachel said, fighting the small pout and forcing the disappointment down inside.

"It's not that I don't want to," he continued, his eyes finally finding hers, "But Coach wants to speak with me before class. Something about the game coming up and-"

She searched his eyes as he rambled, the words disappearing into emptiness as she attempted to use her limited, but selective third eye to determine if he was deceptive. There was nothing she could determine, nothing that he was lying about. Rachel didn't know why she had questioned him as much as she was. Finn was honest and kind, if a bit dim sometimes, and while he rarely looked beyond himself, he still was there when she needed him in the end. This was going to be her year. With her popular boyfriend who loved and cherished her, and her friends(FRIENDS!), senior year would be her best year yet.

"Of course, Finn," Rachel said once she noticed he had stopped talking, "I would never be one to step in front of you dreams."

"Thanks." He kissed her cheek, a bit sloppily, but a nice, sweet gesture. She smiled back and kissed his, enjoying the small tingle of contentment. "I knew you'd understand." He disappeared down the hallway, away from their classes without another word.

Rachel walked with a very little care. There had been no slushies or taunts or threats or anything that she had suffered through the majority of her high school career, and she was enjoying the piece. Santana and Brittany had taken care of it, she supposed. Quinn...she hadn't heard much from Quinn. Glee was due to start up soon, and while the blonde was not around, Rachel was sure she'd be there for the group. For her. This year was-

Very, very cold.

Her books fell to the floor as three different slushies dripped down her body. Rachel couldn't see, eyes shut as tight as possible in hopes that none of the sticky, disgusting substance hurt her even more. This wasn't suppose to happen. Her unicorn sweater was soaked through, and she was sure that the black lacy bra she wore was highlighted underneath. It continued to slide down her face, her neck and down her back, even to her-

"My Barbara," she twisted a little bit as some of the frozen goo slipped down her skirt.

Laughter. It was the laughter she had thought disappeared like the night as her sunrise of senior year rose. The hallway sang its cruel song as seniors, juniors and sophomores filled her ears, and the soft sounds of freshmen just hidden underneath, unsure of what was going on, but afraid to not fit in.

"Enjoy your bath, Gleek?" A voice cut through everything. She heard that voice before. One of the hockey players, the base of the sports teams at McKinley. "Here let us help you dry off."

Something else was dumped on her, and through the sludge that coated her, Rachel felt tiny, light somethings land on her. She coughed and sputtered as she breathed them in, trying to turn away, but a heavy hand pushed her back in the middle of the pool of slushie, her flats offering no traction, and was forced to spin a bit. She tried to keep her balance.

Feathers. Rachel coughed out feathers and was happy that her eyes were closed. She tightened them even more, determine not to see anything. They slushied and feathered her.

The laughter grew louder.

Nothing had changed. The hockey player spewed out taunts and insults, calling her Man-hands once again, a little tranny who had whored her way into the graces of a jock like Finn. That her surgery was fantastic, and done a great job hiding the fat and scars. That every one wanted to show her what a real man was and-

The laughter suddenly stopped. The hallway was quiet again, just before the world erupted in fear and terror and oddly comfort.

"Who the fuck do you think you fucking are, you fucking twat-wads?" Santana shouted, and Rachel shook in place. It was just from the cold she told herself. "Who the fuck gave you permission, and why did you actually fucking think it was a fucking good idea? Did you not get the memo, you-" The cheerio slipped into Spanish; Mr Schuester was a terrible teacher, and her vocabulary was horrible. Santana spoke fast and loud, her voice only a few feet away.

A hand pushed her aside, and Rachel nearly fell. But something slammed hard against the lockers. She really, really wanted to open her eyes. But her hands were sticky and terrible at removing the slushie she was coated in. More slipped down her skirt, now into her underwear and traveling her legs to her flats. The feathers were even more awkward, her hands just scratching her skin as she moved.

"Don't you dare," the voice growled, actually growled, and Rachel's body vibrated from her sternum all the way to just below her navel and she should really stop that line of thought in school. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Q?" Santana paused in her rant.

Quinn was near her. Now she really, really wanted to see. Someone stepped close to her, a hand that shook slightly touched her cheek, then another one. Two thumbs lightly brushed her vile substance from her eyes.

The blonde she knew was gone. The light sun-bleached, soft, wonderfully soft, hair was gone and pink harshness stood in its place. Thick eyeliner detracted from the deep, dark green iris, while the pink eye shadow hardened the soft curves of her face. And, Barbara, a nose ring, a piercing. Rachel could smell the smoke from her lips, now bright pink as well. But whatever anger the once-blonde had disappeared. She only saw sadness and worry, and something else that made her warm up in the exact same place as- stupid line of thought for later, Rachel, deal with your weird ideas later.

"Are you okay?" Rachel shook her head. The voice hadn't changed at all, music that she had missed for over a month now, even with the smoking. "Stupid question. I'm sorry."

"Q, what the fucking-"

"Lopez, you and Pierce take Berry hear to the showers, get her cleaned up." The HBIC voice was frightening and Rachel shook from the cold, again, she swore. It had nothing to do with the tone and how even harsh and mean the voice was, Quinn still only sound like music.

"Who the fuck-"

"Sure, Quinn," Brittany said and wrapped an arm around Rachel. Quinn pulled away, her hands shaking again, but she never took her eyes off of her. "we'll take care of it."

"Good," the now-punk non-blonde turned away. The outfit was form fitting, though the black jacket with spiked shoulders hid most of it. A torn skirt that probably was as short as Rachel's, though the stockings she wore, also torn, helped give some modesty. "I'll take care of these... boys."

Brittany led her away, and Santana stomped by behind them, glaring at the crowd who parted ways for her. Rachel stopped though, her eyes pausing on someone who shouldn't have been there, who was suppose to be talking with his coach.

Finn had hidden around a corner, trying to look like he had not been there the entire time, but Rachel knew better. She knew his sheepish and guilty smile, the one that he had given so many times, including the meeting after the New York failure and kiss. He was a man-child, and it was a like finding a boy who had eaten all of the cookies, even when he knew better. But why? Why was here? Had he decided to take her to her classes anyways.

Santana nearly walked into, well, she did, except her hands here in front of her and the cheerio pushed her a bit. Rachel would have fallen had Brittany not held on tight. "We're going to talk later, Finnosaurus, don't think I know what's happened here." 

The three girls walked away from the quarterback, leaving him looking at his feet. No one said a word and Rachel felt someone wet on her cheeks, which she was sure was just the slushie dripping onto the spots Quinn cleaned up. She never cried at school, and wouldn't stop now.

Even if her boyfriend had abandoned her, which wasn't likely, and on of her friends(friends?) had tried to rescue her, only to leave her again. Even then.

******

Nov. 2nd:

Quinn had not been able to visit Rachel until Sunday, as her fathers sought to spend some time with her, making sure she was okay and safe and okay. She had wanted to see the diva, to explain things and maybe see if she could salvage their friend ship.

After the slushie incident, Rachel cornered her with the Skanks and tried to get her to rejoin Glee. But she could not. Her tiger was demanding so much of her and she struggled with it for most of August before slowly gaining control.

The Skanks were like her, well, in a way. They were all related in a round about way, but wolf-clans tended to breed together, even if they were not actually related. The Mack was the one who found her, tormented and depressed as she fought the desire and want inside, as well as the penis she grew overnight after a sleepover with Rachel, where they cuddled and held each other after a rather gory film of Santana's choice.

The Mack taught her more about being a were-creature then her mother had, at least, the idea of mating and such. They never talked about sex in the Fabray's besides the standard "DON'T". It was embarrassing to even think about. They never talked about her tiger-side besides just how to control it. But she needed to learn.

Quinn needed to learn about what it meant to be an Alpha, what it meant to be responsible for her race. The were-tigers were hunted, almost to extinction, really. The Wolf tribes had told stories of how they ruled and controlled the hunts, protecting mankind from itself and dangers. Until hunters had enough. Until humans desired control and hunted the oddities and supernatural beings to secrecy and invisibility. The Wolf tribes were one of the few that survived well, taking to the woods and small towns, almost like that horrible vampire movie(thankfully, those creatures did not exist), while the Tiger clans were killed, slaughtered because they were feared. Very few survived.

The Mack taught her about pregnancy and Alphas, how they would only produce their kind with viable mates, those who deserved them. Puck was an alpha-male, but as the Mack told her, offering her a cigarette, he did not deserve her. She taught Quinn about how, even though accepting herself as a were, she was still keeping herself separate and away from what she truly was. A were-tiger was both human and tiger, at the same time.

Quinn opened herself up, accepting a new truth, one she fought with for years. Her senses exploded and her tiger-heart raged against her human mind. For a week, she struggled to hold a form that was comfortable, that was Lucy Quinn Fabray, not a monstrosity. She was constantly breaking bones and healing them, including compound fractures that pierced her perfect sink. Fur grew and shed, ripping apparent underneath her muscles as it pushed out of her body. It was hell. But when the week was over, Quinn felt more her than she had before. For once, the tiger did not fight her any more. Or rather she did not fight the tiger.

She needed to explain all of this, if she could. As accepting as Rachel as was, Quinn needed to explain herself, the separation and the attitude, the secrecy, as well as why she was humping the girl the day before. Waking up next to Rachel was a memory she would never forget, mainly because it was the closest she had been to the girl in months.

Quinn walked up to the Berry's door and knocked. They knew she was coming over after dinner, as the rules meant at least one dad had to be present when friends were over, after an unfortunate experience with alcohol early in the summer and Leroy walking in on a naked Santana and Brittany in the living room.

She shuffled on her feet, kind of wishing that she had not worn a sun dress. Not that she was cold or anything, but it was the old Quinn, someone who had disliked herself and fought so hard against herself. The new-Quinn, while not punkish any more, still felt more comfortable in sweat pants and a tank top, though a loose one would only make Rachel uncomfortable since most days Quinn forwent underwear.

The door opened, and Hiram stood over her. "Quinn." He didn't move.

"Mr. Berry," she replied. The black man just started at her through his glasses, never waiving. But Quinn returned the look. No fear, no anxiety, no questions any more. The tiger-she-was knew her place, even if the man stood over her.

"Oh, daddy," Rachel said, pushing the man aside. The million watt smile Quinn received warmed her, even though the early winter had gotten worse. Granted, it hadn't bothered her like it once would have, but still, it was the thought, Quinn figured. "Quinn! Come in, come in. It's cold.

Rachel had bundled up in what looked like two sweaters, the second one was large enough to reach her thighs and had a orange cat on it, pajama bottoms that were pink with gold stars, and had a blanket wrapped around herself, black covered with gold stars. She also had a knitted hat on with a star pom.

Quinn stepped inside and wrapped the girl in a tight hug. Cherries invaded her senses, filling up single pore she had, overloading the mind she had sought to calm. She just tightened her grip and pulled the girl as close as possible. The blanket fell and Rachel wrapped her arms around her waist, laying her face on Quinn's neck, exposing her own to the tiger-mind. She wanted to nuzzle and lick on the smooth skin, tasting it and enjoying everything that would be Rachel Berry.

Leroy coughed, and Quinn tried to pull away, but Rachel just held on tight. "Daddy," she said and nuzzled the blonde, "Quinn has never been a problem here. You don't need stand guard like some crazy man."

"Really, Leroy," Hiram said. "The girls will be okay. Just let them talk okay. Quinn probably has a lot to say." He glared softly at her, and she nodded, but did not look away. She would never back down again. "You two may head upstairs now."

"Kay," Rachel finally pulled away, but took Quinn's hand and pulled her up the stairs to her room.

In three months, the room had not changed much. Still bright pink with dull pink covers and animals, oh the stuffed animals that sat around on the floor and shelves, but cleared of the bed for once. Pictures of her friends, even if they were only as old as the summer. Albums on a bookshelf, cds and vinyl, covered a wall, with a desk sitting near, a record player hooked up to a headset and microphone that was connected to the laptop. A television sat on a dresser with a few devices hooked up to it. Quinn knew if she looked under the bed, she would find a box filled with video games, the diva's little vice that only the Unholy Trinity knew about.

Rachel closed the door and jump onto her bed, bouncing on it slightly before shuffling around to look at Quinn, standing just inside the room, coat still on and backpack hanging to the side now. She fought a smile, but decided it was better to let the girl see just how happy she was that she was. The girl threw the blanket off, tossing her hat and sweater as well only to reveal the second possessed an orange cat as well. "Hi," Rachel said, smiling shyly.

"Hi," Quinn replied. The brunette reached out for Quinn. With a smile, she dropped her bag and removed her coat, and tried to ignore the raised eyebrows on Rachel, as well as the heightened pulse, slight temperature increase and catch in her breath. She fought for a second before letting herself be pulled, Rachel laughing the entire time. It was contagious and Quinn let herself be free.

They laid down next to each other; Quinn had a hard time keeping her eyes still, taking in everything and anything about Rachel, absorbing whatever she could from the girl just inches from her. The sweater was really tight on the girl, as was the pajamas. She swallowed and tried to control herself.

Quinn wanted to keep this image of Rachel in her mind as long as possible. Especially if this was the last time she would see the diva. Rachel's pillows, pink as they were, smelled of her, and it calmed her. The smell of the girl alone calmed her.

This talk would drive her away; she was so certain of it. Despite the calmness Rachel showed the day before, the reasons behind everything, why Quinn left, her strange biology, and transformational issues would send the girl running.

"Hi," Rachel said.

"Hi," Quinn replied. The brunette reached out and placed her hand on Quinn's arm, running her fingers up and down. She let go of a breathe, shaky and uneven, closing her eyes as she relaxed into the touch.

"I missed you," Rachel said. Quinn just nodded; she had missed her too. "You promised me something."

"Hmm?"

"Well, not promised as much, but said you would, and I expect you to uphold you not-promise to me anyways, especially because-" Quinn's smile widen and betrayed her uncertainty. It was not fear, because she no longer feared anything. Not even losing Rachel. It had to be something else, some other emotion that settled in her chest, because then she could not handle anything. She just could not. And the tiger-side had taught her that nothing was beyond her, that nothing would control her, especially not fear.

"And what did I not promise?"

"To tell me why you felt it was necessary to distance yourself from me and Santana and Brittany, but mostly me, because you were my cuddle buddy and I missed that. It sucks being the third wheel with those two, but I guess you knew that all and while I can see that-" Quinn reached out and lightly tapped Rachel's mouth with her finger.

"Okay," she said. 

"Okay? So you'll tell me." 

"Yes."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"Even the tiger and penis stuff." Quinn face reddened.

"Of course." There was no hesitation, despite her desire to keep at least something to herself, but she had said she would explain, and she could not lie to the diva.

"And why you left me?" The final question nearly shattered her heart, the solid iron and ice she had reforged in August as a fierce were-tiger should possess. Nearly was probably the wrong adverb. Certainly, was more accurate.

"I am truly sorry I have hurt you again, Rachel," Quinn said. The diva shifted on her shoulder closer to Quinn and processed to tangle her legs up with her. Thin pajama pant-covered legs. That she felt every gentle curve and tight muscles beneath.

"Just be honest with me, kay?" Rachel replied. "That's all I want."

"You sure?"

Rachel nodded.

"About everything?"

Another nod.

"Will you not leave?"

"Why would I-" She paused in her response; Quinn closed her eyes. The hand stopped moving and just rested on her elbow. "Quinn, I swear to you, nothing you say could make me leave you. You're my best friend. I don't know how it happened, especially all things considered that we went through, but you are, and I love you for it." The hand started moving again, and her iron-ice heart pumped unevenly, though it was probably working just fine and that was more of a reaction to the tender words of the diva who had no reason to trust her.

Quinn said nothing for a while, trying to gather her words, and, though she refused to admit it to herself, her courage to say what she needed to say. Rachel deserved more than her, more than a bitch who hurt her and debased her year after year, even when they finally became acquaintances. This would end what she had worked so hard for, and while unfortunate, she could see no other way"Quinn, I promise you-"

"I think I am gay, Rachel," Quinn said.

The hand stopped again, as did Rachel's breathing. But Quinn just continued. "It was part of what I learned, and needed to deal with. The other thing was the whole tiger issue. Not the transforming, though I do not call it that, and everything." She couldn't stop talking, the words spewed forth from her mouth like she was Rachel Berry talking about Broadway.

Quinn spoke of her past and her puberty from Lucy Caboosey to the HBIC with the smoking hot body, from the bullied to the bully, and how puberty and the acceptance of being a were-tiger just made it all worse and torturous. She spoke of her father's ignorance of her issues and hatred of all things non-natural, and how he raised and taught her to be the good little Christian girl whom was perfect in every single way that he cared about: straight, pious, and, above all, obedient. She spoke of Beth, a first in a very long time, because even the Mack did not deserve to know about her child who would never be like her, but she loved so much that the thought still hurt to this day.

Quinn spoke of her insane junior year and everything she felt and suffered through, of her own design she told Rachel, and how hard it was just to deal with it all. She spoke of her break down, her first really, after Prom and how everything failed to go according to the plan, even though her father had made it, and how it had forced to accept somethings about herself, even if it was not all of them .She spoke of New York and how she made the plan to apologize to Rachel and become her friend, even enlisting the other two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity to try to beg for forgiveness.

Quinn spoke of August and what she learned about being a were, and how she had changed once more and it frightened her beyond anything she had experienced, including the pregnancy, and how being an Alpha meant that she had a duty to propagate her face to ensure that extinction did not occur. She spoke of the Mack and the Skanks, how they helped her finish accepting the rest of herself, including the hardest part and what they told her of her history.

Through out all of, Rachel was quiet and her hand did not stop moving. Quinn was grateful for both.

"Which leads us to the thing between your legs," Rachel said, and heat filled Quinn's cheeks.

"It's not always there," Quinn replied, looking away. "it comes and goes, and started this August. That's why you never saw it before." This was the worst part, talking about the truth behind the transformation. The part that would drive her away forever, because of just how much a freak she was, even in the were community. Once again, she would be alone, even when she had friends.

"I know; had it been I would have pushed a bit harder." Quinn opened her eyes to look into Rachel's, who's nose was now only inches away.

"Wh-wh-what?"

"It's a shame really, because I would have been a bit more direct, certainly I would have realized this a bit sooner and at least had been honest with you"

"Rae, I-I-I don't, what do you-" The hand was now pulling her close, and Quinn felt Rachel's body press again against her.

"You said you were gay, right?" Rachel asked. Quinn nodded. She shuffled closer to the blonde and her hand began to play with one of the straps of her sundress. "It is really, really, really brave of you to tell me. Are...are you out?" Quinn shook her head. "Does anyone else know or am I the first?"

"The Mack, and Santana and Brittany, but that's it," Quinn replied. "She's the one who helped me with all of the were-tiger issues,and they helped out the most when I first realized it."

"Including your penis." She had a hard time forming thoughts for a second as the hand danced up her neck. It took a moment for the question to reach her understanding, but Quinn nodded. Her acceptance was a hair's breathe away. In fact, her control was almost slipping, and her spine began to lengthen. "But I'm the fourth?"

Quinn nodded, and closed her eyes. Why had she not run? Rachel was suppose to be frightened, terrified even, that the girl she knew was not really human and certainly not much of a female any more

"Don't hide from me?" The hand cupped her cheek. "You never need to hide from me."

"How can you accept all of this?"

"Hmm?"

"Me, the tiger-side," Quinn said, "My...my..."

"Penis? Cock? Dick? Baby-maker? Heat-seeking Moisture missile? Sausage?" Quinn was fighting a smile, but it was a futile battle. She knew she could not hold her laughter in, especially as her spine added vertebrae and tendons and skin and fur. Her head began to itch, and her ears hurt. "Meat popsicle? Wiener? Meat injector? Pecker? Flesh flute? Schlong? Yogurt shotgun?"

Quinn snorted and covered her mouth. She opened her and saw stars in Rachel's eyes as the smirk just brightened everything in the room. "Where did you-"

"Puck has a tendency to speak at length of his own sexual prowess," Rachel replied.

"And you see Puck when?"

"Temple. He goes every week, with or without his mom. Takes his sister and we end up talking while his sister plays with her friends."

"That's so..."

"Sweet?"

"Not Puck."

"I know, right," Rachel said. "He swore me to secrecy, but you can keep a secret, can't you?" Quinn nodded; it was a stupid question all things considered. But Rachel was so childish and giddy that she could not help but agree. "Because blackmail is an awesome tool. As a former Cheerio you know that." Rachel slide her hand down Quinn's neck back to her shoulder, and she fought a purr. Fought and failed.

She closed her eyes and just purred as Rachel scratched her neck, purring. Her ears disappeared from the side of her head as they reformed on top of her head, poking through her blonde hair. Quinn learned to ignore the biology of that one, rather just accept it then have to wonder how everything inside of her skull rearranged to do it. "You're beautiful."

"Hmm?" Quinn leaned forward a bit, trying to give more access to the diva. Whether how she was being touched or that it was Rachel, and she was willing to accept that it was the latter, it was wonderful.

"The stripes." Quinn opened her eyes and nearly rolled away, but Rachel sat up and pushed Quinn down onto her back. The diva followed the movement until she was straddling the girl, settling on her hips. Dear God, give her strength because Rachel's pajama pants were extremely tight. This close, Quinn could follow every curve of the girl, and she could not take her eyes off of her. "Oh my Barbara, you have cat ears. That is so awesome."

"What?"

"Oh, oh, oh," Rachel continued, twisting around and pressing herself harder against Quinn's hips. She fought a groan. This would not be good. "You have a tail. So what? A partial transformation, right?"

"No," Quinn said. "The better would be 'partial acceptance,' and I would apply it to either the human or tiger form."

Rachel smiled down, shifting her hips as she got comfortable. Her hands stayed on Quinn's shoulders, though her fingers tightly danced on her skin. She had pushed the straps down her arms. Blood rushed to her clit. This would be very, very not good. "So this is your natural form?"

"Yes," Quinn said. "How can you-" She could not understand why the girl remained so close to her, was touching her intimately, like Finn wished he could and Sam tried his hardest to. Gentle caresses on her shoulder and shifting of her hips as she got comfortable, many times. Did she not understand what she was doing, how she was torturing her? The blood pushed forward and upward, and Quinn felt her clit harden as it, too, altered slowly. Maybe Rachel would not notice

"No one has made the effort you have," Rachel replied, her eyes softening. Her voice was airy, so light and breathy that Quinn was sure she was not breathing correctly. "No one has apologized and truly changed for me. Just for me. Finn wanted me to change for him. Jesse just focused on him. And Puck..."

"Was a manwhore?"

Rachel laughed before sliding her hands down Quinn's sides, just grazing her breasts, and it was one of the few times she wished she wore a bra. "No, kind and sweet, but too childish. He changed a bit, even if it was just to score. But I like to think he learned a bit, grew up a bit. No, Quinn. You grew and developed." Her eyes lingered on the blonde's chest; damn thin material exposing her a bit more. Her nipples had harden, almost painfully, but Quinn did not move. "And changed just for me. Because you wanted to. You treated me so wonderfully, and not only that, let me treat you. You didn't protect me unless I couldn't, and you-"

"Rachel..."

The girl started to grind on her. That was the only term that came to mind. Her penis had fully grown, and Rachel pressed down on her, letting Quinn feel the warmth of her vagina. She moaned and closed her eyes. "Cared for me. I have never felt what I feel right now, certainly not towards Finn, because that was fondness and lust, which was kinda fun if I am being honest, but it was just that fun and-"

"Rachel."

"It wasn't all that I wanted; I realize that now, even though it has only been two months since the break up, three since you left me. But you came back. You. Came. Back. I can't begin to tell you."

Quinn reached up and grabbed Rachel's arms, stopping her hands from sliding up and down her sides. But her hips never stopped moving. "Rachel!"

"What?" The diva stopped talking, a smile grew on her face. The innocent smile that meant she knew exactly what she was doing and would continue to do so. "Oh."

"Yes, oh," Quinn said. She groaned as the diva pressed down with her butt. "Don't."

"Is that for me?" She asked, innocence sparkling in her eyes. She continued to move, side to side, up and down, pressing down hard and then relaxing a bit. Quinn grabbed her hips and tried to still the diva, though she really just helped her move against her, a bit faster now. "Oh. It is."

"Yes, please stop," Quinn replied. She felt it building up, the pressure that she knew would come soon. Despite how much she did not want to ejaculate in front Rachel now, it was going to happen and she was determined to enjoy it even more so.

"Why?"

"Because I want to talk about this," Quinn said. It was too much. Rachel being aggressive, even it was kind of passive and sweet and kind. Her straight up acceptance, even though she gave reasons, Quinn found it all hard to believe. Her thumbs slipped under both sweaters and touched the skin she had only dreamed of, though the dreams were frequent and rather detailed these days. "I want to talk about-"

"Me practically riding your cock?" Quinn blushed. "You're so clinical sometimes. Say it."

"No." The words were wrong. She had to keep it distant from herself. Had to distant the physical feeling from her mind. Rachel was more than just a physical pleasure, and she had dreamt so long of being touched by the girl.

Rachel stopped moving, the smile never leaving her face. Her nipples hurt now, and her penis throbbed. Quinn tried to push on the diva's hips, but she refused to move, refused to release her tension. "Say it."

Quinn closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Say it, or I'll walk away right now, leaving your hard cock aching, begging for me to continue. Say it."

She repeated the motion. The word would make it too real. It would release the emotions she had hide, ones that she thought maybe Rachel shared, but she could not be sure.

"Say it, Quinn,and I'll make you cum so hard, with just a touch. Maybe I'll pull up your dress so it is just above your cock, and take it in my hand. Maybe I'll even suck your cock. Would you like that? Would you like that, my sweet, lovely kitty? Would you like to feel the warmth of my mouth, my tongue slide along the veins on your cock, a kiss maybe right on the head as I lick the precum off, moaning with every taste. Are you cut or uncut? Oh if you were uncut, I'll pull the foreskin down your cock with my teeth, let go and graze them down the sides of your cock. I'll do that anyways, though, my kitty, just to see you squirm." Please move, she begged, but said no words, just a little, but Rachel held still. Quinn could not say the word, because it would mean that she accepted her lust for the brunette. Her penis hurt now.

"Say it, Quinn." A hand reached down and cupped her breast, the thumb flicking up and down, up and down, up and down her nipple. Quinn moaned again, shaking her head. It was too much, so much. Her mouth was dry, and her penis just ached more and more as the warmth between Rachel's legs did not lessen.

The pressure was so close, but Rachel refused to budge, refused to give her the release she needed now. "My...My..." The words felt awkward and she didn't know if she could get them out. The lust grew more and more. The tiger wanted to take the girl, and it would be so easy. The human wanted to love the girl and it would be so hard.

"Good, kitty," Rachel said. "Say it and get the reward of my pussy sliding along your hot, rock hard cock, pussy cat, begging for you just to fuck me hard. I'll cum over you, covering your beautiful yellow dress in my juices, letting it soak it. Say it, Quinn."

"My...my..." 

"That's a good kitty," Rachel said, her other hand no resting on her other breast. She leaned forward a bit, placing her weight on Quinn's chest, squeezing her breasts as Rachel's fingers flicked up and down in an alternating pattern. "Just say it, and I'll let you be free."

"My...my..." Quinn's lip trembled, "my cock." Her voice barely exited her mouth.

"Speak up, kitty," Rachel replied. "I couldn't hear you. You must speak clearly so I can understand you. What did you say?"

"My cock," Quinn said, a bit louder this time. Rachel leaned forward.

"Open your eyes." She complied. "Good kitty." The diva was inches from her face, staring at her through half slitted eyes and the smirk, the damn beautiful smirk shown brightly on her face. "Now say it so I can hear you." She squeezed a nipple and Quinn arched her back again.

"My cock," Quinn repeated, almost speaking normally.

"Still too soft. You're voice, certainly not this lengthy cock between my legs, my pussy resting on it. Do you feel the wetness of my pussy on your cock, hmm? Isn't it wonderful. How long is your cock anyways?"

"I...I do not-"

"Contractions kitty."

Quin swallowed. "I don't know."

"You don't know what?" The fingers squeezed her nipples and Quinn arched up, but the pressure of Rachel's vagina did not increase; she just followed the motion.

"I don't know how long my...my..." Quinn said. "My cock is."

"Very good, kitty," Rachel said, but didn't start moving.

"Please," Quinn said. The tiger hated the submissiveness; Alpha did not submit, it went against the definition of the word. But the human panted and loved every second of it. She a wet spot on her dress, not large, but just enough to tell her she was close. "Please let me cum."

"What would you like to cum, pussy cat?"

"my...my...cock," Quinn replied. The smirk grew larger.

"Oh, I would love-"

"Rachel!" Leroy's voice pierced the room. "Quinn! Come down stairs please." The six words broke their world.

"To make your cock cum, but daddy needs us now," Rachel said.

She rolled her hips and slide off, her hands trailing down Quinn's body, coming close to her pe-no cock, but never touching it. "No," Quinn begged. "Please no, I need to-"

"Later, sweetie," Rachel replied. She stood at the foot of the bed and looked down, pulling her sweater up a little and exposing her flat stomach. Quinn followed slightly, moving to sit on her knees to let her tail move. "Look at how hot you made me, kitty. Look at how wet my pussy is." Quinn moved slowly up to her elbows, staring at Rachel's cro-no pussy, remember her words, if only to get Rachel to finish her, let her cum. The pajamas were pulled up so high that she could see her pussy lips, a detailed camel toe. It was beautiful. Quinn licked her lips, trying to wet them, though her mouth remained dry. "All for your wonderful cock. Maybe some day I'll let to stick it in my pussy. Would you like that?"

The tiger and human both agreed. Quinn's ears twitched in excitement and tail swung back and forth. She was suppose to be the Alpha but with little effort, Rachel dominated her. The diva leaned forward and offered her hand to Quinn. "Come, we need to change, what with your dress covered in my juices and your precum, that hard cock sticking out and my pajamas practically dripping with how wet you made me. Don't want to scare my dad and daddy, though dad probably understands that this is what I want."

"Huh?" Quinn said. She took the hand and let herself be pulled up. Rachel was surprisingly strong. She stood in front of the diva, who wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist, pressing her cock between their bodies.

"We talked yesterday," Rachel said. "The three of us. That's why you couldn't come over. We needed to talk about everything. I didn't tell them about the tiger and the chase and almost sexual assault slash bestiality, or you waking up naked next to me with that wonderful cock of yours rubbing in my skirt, so close to my pussy."

"What...what...did you talk about?"

"My fluid sexuality," Rachel said.

"Flu..fluid?"

"Stuttering is not attractive when we are conversing, Quinn. When we are having sexy times, I'll accept it, but I want you to use your words, okay?" Quinn nodded. "Yes, my fluid sexuality. I don't believe in labels as they would limit me. We talked about how I had always had a crush on you, even when you bullied me, though I didn't realize that until recently, and how this summer was the greatest because, even though I thought you were straight, I got to be near you and hold you. I felt so wonderful and safe and loved. Yes loved. I can say that now, looking back, but then I just enjoyed it. I didn't know how much you mattered until you went away."

"Girls!" Hiram said. "We need to see you downstairs."

"We're changing for bed," Rachel shouted back, turning so she did not not direct her stage yell towards Quinn, which she was thankful for. "In a minute."

"You...like...me?" Quinn asked, the tiger confused by the emotions while the human was just confused by everything.

Rachel nodded. "I wouldn't do that with anyone Quinn, certainly not since I decided I wanted to be a virgin until I was twenty five." She did not know if she could wait that long. "I held off Finn for two years now, his pressure was kinda pathetic really, and other than straight up begging, which was kinda adorable in a way and, certainly I liked the power, did nothing for me. I thought I would grow into finding him physically attractive enough to sleep with, but certainly not before twenty five. You changed that. You and your large cock."

"I...did?"

"Yep," Rachel said. "Now come, let's get changed and see what dad and daddy want so we can come back up here and watch movies until we fall asleep in my bed."

Quinn shook her head. "What about-"

"What about what, Quinn?" Rachel said. "Use your words."

"My cock," Quinn finished. It hurt so much right now and the diva slide up and down once. She moaned at the contact.

"Oh, well," Rachel smirked up at the blonde. "We'll see."

"You can't just leave me hanging here," Quinn replied. "Please don't, I need you to make me cum."

"Such lovely vulgar words out of your mouth, kitty." Rachel let go of Quinn and stood up to kiss her cheek and scratch her ears. Her other hand slide up her back before running down it, petting her tail and grabbing her butt, ass. "Later, maybe. I'll take care of your cock, so don't you kay?" She nodded. "Do you have sleep ware? No? I'll take care of it." Rachel turned to go to her dresser but stopped and turned back to stare at the blonde. "Do you have a pussy still?"

Quinn nodded.

"Good, don't touch that either, kay?" Quinn nodded. "Excellent." Rachel clapped her hands and turned to finish her next mission, but paused again. "Wait." She returned to Quinn and pulled up her dress, exposing her cock to the air. "Good no panties. So hot by the way. Stay right here."

She went to her dresser and pulled out a few things before replacing them back, looking for something specific. When she turned around, Rachel held out some cloths. "Wear these." Quinn walked forward, her cock bouncing. The tiger cried out to rush forward and take the girl; the human said to walk slower and let Rachel enjoy the way she looked. The diva's eyes remained focused on her cock, and she licked her lips.

Quinn took the cloths, frowning when she saw a pair of short shorts and a tank top. "Will these fit?"

"Try them on, we'll see." She turned to go to the bathroom, but Rachel's hand grabbed her elbow and turned her back to face her. "No, here."

Quinn was going to expose herself to the girl she..cared about so much. Who she lusted and wanted to mate with so much. The human loved it, and the tiger wanted to show off why the diva should have sex with her. "Here, I'll help you, kitty." Rachel grabbed Quinn's dress and pulled it down; her breasts squeezing down and the top scrapped her nipples. She moaned. It continued down, resting on her cock. "Hold still, please." Rachel grabbed the sides of the dress, avoiding her cock and shimmied it, rubbing against it and pushing it down, as she pulled it to the floor. "Go on, get dressed."

Quinn felt so hot, so red, but did as she was told. The shorts were tight, but slide up enough, like underwear, though her cock peeked out the top. The tank top was worse; her breasts straining against it, barely covering her stomach, to a few inches above her belly button. "Wonderful, but we don't want to give dad and daddy a heart attack." She walked over and grabbed the large sweater. "Wear this too."

The sweater was bulky and heavy. Quinn was warm enough, her skin practically on fire. She ran warmer than most, a byproduct of her were-tigerness, but this would be took much. Rachel turned around and bent over, shaking her perfectly toned ass at the blonde, her pussy highlighted by the soaked area. "These will do." She turned around holding some cloths. "I'm gonna change in the bathroom. You wait right here."

Quinn nodded, and Rachel stepped forward and kissed her cheek. "Good kitty." She disappeared out of sit, though her ears followed the girl, twitched.

She sighed. If she was going downstairs to meet the Berry's, she had to accept her human side, at least just enough to get her tail and ears back inside her. Quinn closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, exhaling fast. Slowly, her vertebra shortened and disappeared, the tail sliding in. The ears shifted down her head until they were properly at the side, shrinking down to their normal size. Her cock did not disappear. 

Rachel returned to her room and Quinn turned around to see her wearing a robe. She was disappointed. She had hoped that Rachel wore something similar to her own. "Ready?" The blonde nodded. "Kay, lets go."

She held out a hand and Quinn took it, smiling at the gentle squeeze, and let herself be pulled out.

This wasn't how she expected it, conforming to Rachel's wishes and desires, letting the girl dominate her. Never in her fantasies had she given up control. But now the tiger was content, and the human happy. It was probably better this way. A girl who accepted and cared clearly deeply about her was something that Quinn would have done anything to have, especially when it was Rachel Berry. No, this wasn't how she originally wanted it to be. But she knew she would love every minute of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Author's Note: Zomg, its been like... days since i've updated. That's because of two things. First off, I have a beta! ::kermit the frog:: YAAAAY! She is absolutely wonderful. Because of a beta, though, I am slowing down posting so she can edit and I can make any changes if necessary.

Two: I've been writing... a lot... like chapter 6 is completely done with more smut, and chapter 7 is being started, and my god, graduate school, how did you get important. Shruggs..

Anyways, thank you to all my follows and cult members, I love to see you guys and gals showing up and causing havoc. Remember your Julius Caesar my friends.

I do not own Glee. If I did, we would have probably been banned from Fox and picked up on HBO or something, given the amount of sex that would occur. I own the plot and characterizations, so go me.

As always, read and review.

Because I can-

SurrealSteamPuck(WeOffendedShadows)

November 7th:

Five days of school had passed, and Rachel had adored the majority of it. Partly because the practice for the play had been extremely successful, even with Artie's demands that she and Blaine weren't sensual enough; an opinion that changed after Sunday. He actually asked her if she had sex over the weekend, and she said no, and the look of shock brightened her day. Though Coach Beiste did slap him upside the head for such a crude suggestion.

She was a virgin, despite her sexual domination of Quinn, Sunday night. They didn't do anything else that night, partly because she felt a little embarrassed by her actions...but mostly because Quinn was tired, exhausted from anxiety of her leaving her, a thought that had never crossed her mind. They fell asleep watching "Angel", and Rachel couldn't decide which activity she loved more, sexual activity with Quinn, or just sleeping with her.

The conversation with her parents went well enough, though Quinn stared her daddy down when he kept pushing for more uncomfortable answers that even the diva was unsure she could answer. The brunette didn't flinch, and the ice queen just stared at the man, daring him to question her. In the end, her dad and daddy accepted that Rachel was old enough to make a decision and that decision was to explore her relationship with Quinn. She was hesitant to place a label on it, especially given that they had just revealed their interest in each other.

Quinn did ask, albeit shyly, in front of her parents for a date on Friday. Today. An actual date with the former HBIC.

School was interesting. On Monday, while Rachel drove them, they talked about her controlling and teasing the blonde in the bedroom. Quinn's blush bubble was going to break, she swore, but at least she was willing to talk about the fact that it would be unfair if the diva dominated her in public as well as private, and that sometimes she would have to be prepared when the tiger-self wanted to take charge. Which could happen. Rachel just smiled and cupped Quinn's pussy through her tight black jeans. It was wonderful having a not-girlfriend who had both parts, she decided, as well as one who willing to talk rational about these things. She deemed the agreement acceptable.

The week went slow, as they only really saw each other during Glee practice and a bit during the play, though Quinn wasn't required often with her small—but important, Rachel reminded herself—part. Sometimes, Rachel would see her in the hallways, the frown disappearing quickly at the sight of her, but most of the time Quinn just wasn't around, and it was beginning to get annoying. They didn't have any classes together this year, which was upsetting because Rachel would have preferred to have spent time with Quinn at least some time during school. In fact, Quinn didn't show up at lunch the entire week, having to spend time working on some AP Art project that Santana swore would make Van Gogh cry. She should have felt hurt that her not-girlfriend wasn't sharing that aspect with her, but it would be a conversation for later.

They texted each other at night, pushing the boundaries almost into sexting, but Quinn was the one who backed off, controlling the conversation so it never went too far. Rachel knew she was pushing the girl who had just accepted so much about herself, but she was horny damn it, and wanted at least her not-girlfriend to suffer the same fate until she took care of it. Something about having a cat-girl not-girlfriend was incredibly odd and exciting, and Rachel had surfed the internet Monday night after school, locking herself in her room, discarding her pants and underwear to sit on a towel and looking up cat-girls. One hand remained firmly on the mouse, the other on her pussy, and Rachel was getting more and more excited as each day passed, thinking of her not-girlfriend and all the things that she wanted to do.

They agreed, well, Quinn demanded and Rachel gave in considering she wasn't that horny at the time and did not know how horny she would be, that full-on homerun sex was not on the table, but anything else was fair game. So each night, she would send fantasies to the girl, short little sentences of just ideas and things she wanted from her—to do to her... to do with her. The internet was a fantastic tool, Rachel decided.

Now, five days had passed, and the texting was not enough; pictures and stories on the internet were not enough. Rachel wore a short plaid skirt that Quinn complimented, black stockings that went all the way up her legs to her thighs. Her top was nothing special, at least the animal sweater wasn't—an owl this time, but underneath she wore nothing else, and felt her nipples harden and relax constantly in the temperamental school and their terrible heating system. For once, Rachel was glad she was enough on the smaller end that she could do without a bra...or panties, at least now. They were ruined and Rachel felt comfortable enough now that school was over to remove them. It was worth the wait after slightly flashing Quinn all morning, or texting the girl about how she wanted the blonde to touch her during class, in the locker room, the choir room. She wanted Quinn to suffer for not showing her any real attention this week. As her not-girlfriend, Rachel demanded at least some form of physical form of adoration, and this lingering hand graze crap was not doing the trick. Her attire would show—

"Mhmmm," Quinn said, wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist, pulling her back flush against her front. "You smell wonderful, have I ever told you that?"

Rachel shuttered as Quinn pressed against her body, feeling the hard cock through tight jeans and her plaid skirt. One of her hands slid up and down the diva's front, pulled up her sweater as it slid underneath to her ribs.

Up and down, up and down...so close to her breasts that now ached, and Rachel just wanted to moan and beg, but Quinn was in charge damn it, why couldn't she just give her what she wanted! "No," she breathed out, "You didn't."

"Over the summer I first noticed it, how your scent enticed me...tortured me, begged me to come near you and just drown in it. Oh I could have spent hours and hours near you, Rae, you in my arms and I..." Quinn nuzzled against Rachel's neck, pressing her nose hard against her pulse point before pulling away slightly and kissing it. "It's intoxicating. It begs me to fuck you, take you and just fuck you until you are a mess of sweat and cum."

"As much as I—...God, Quinn," Rachel breathed out; Quinn's other hand slipped down her skirt, and she pushed their bodies up against the lockers, so Rachel had to hold herself up unless she wanted to be smashed against the metal objects. But her arms wouldn't hold her up if Quinn pressed any harder; she didn't. The tigress continued to grind her cock against her ass. Rachel complied and pushed back, moving with the motion, trying to get some pressure on her body. Quinn's hand slowly moved further and further...closer to her bare, wet, throbbing pussy. "Please just a little bit."

"It's so strong today," Quinn grinned. She started alternating between soft bites and harsh kisses on her neck, with a lick thrown in every once in a while up to her ear. Rachel relaxed her arms a bit, trying hard to remain upright as Quinn just touched her, so close to her nipples which begged attention and her pussy which craved a touch.

"It's been a week," Rachel said. "I've missed you so much, Quinn." She loved when Quinn dropped all pretense and talked dirty; it was so different from normal that it just made the words even better. She took a sharp breath as Quinn thrust hard against her, biting at her neck, sucking at times, intent to leave a nice mark. Hickey's weren't cool or wanted, unless it was from a tigress who was trying to eat a person, trying to taste her flavor, then it was acceptable, Rachel figured. "Just...please."

"Me too," Quinn replied. "You have no idea, Rae, how much I missed you." The hand on her waist stopped just above the hairs she had trimmed perfectly above her pussy, and the one below her breast just sat on her ribs, a thumb brushing her underboob, refusing to touch her in any meaningful way.

Rachel pulled a hand away from the lockers to grab the wrist of the hand just above her crotch, trying to push it down. But Quinn didn't budge. Underneath her fingers, Rachel felt firm muscles and a warmth that permeated her body, warming every cold portion of her.

"You smell so good. I want you here, I want to see that beautiful and tight pussy. I know you're a virgin; Finn barely touched you. His scent was never covering yours. Let mine. I'll make you mine; I'll show you what a real cock can do to you, what you wanted Sunday night. Oh, I knew you desired it, your pussy smelled so wonderful then. Now..." she trailed off and sniffed right below her ear. "I just want to eat you up."

The breeze between her legs no longer chilled her, having suffered through last period with only thoughts of Quinn and that wonderful cock that she needed to measure, the one grinding on her ass. She felt her skirt slowly move up until Quinn's jeans rubbed against her bare skin, leaving only one layer between her and the cock that now haunted her wet dreams. "Please, Quinn..."

"I could take you right now," she replied, and Rachel moved between their bodies, trying to find the superman belt buckle that Quinn enjoyed wearing. "I could take you, fuck you so hard. Would you like that, Berry? I bet you'd enjoy being my little slut, exposing yourself to the world as I tear your clothes away." Quinn's hand slipped a bit further down and began to play with the bit of hair. Rachel wanted to move, but Quinn's grip was too tight, so she instead continued to fumble with the belt.

"Oh, the little stage slut you are," Quinn continued, her breath warming Rachel's ear, a kiss and a bite every once in a while. "Where are your panties, my mate? Did you lose them?"

"No..." Rachel breathed out. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, giving more of her neck to the tigress. "Good kitty, take me here-"

Quinn growled and thrust hard; her arms buckled a bit, but Rachel remained standing. She whimpered at the sound, and she could almost feel the tigress' cock pulsing in the jeans. She needed to touch her, to have Quinn enter her. She needed it. "No." Quinn thrust again. "I am in charge. Not you."

"Please..."

"Say it."

"You're...you're..." Rachel moved as Quinn started to hump her. Her hands struggled to remove the damn belt.

"I'm what?" Quinn growled once more, her voice an octave lower and vibrating her must, sending tingles down Rachel's spine and to her pussy; it was better than any vibrator she owned. The thought that it should be impossible couldn't enter her mind, but Quinn could.

"In charge."

"Good girl, so what happened to your panties, Rae? You didn't give them away did you?"

She shook her head.

"You didn't give them to that poor excuse for a male specimen, Israel, right?" Another shake of her head. "Good girl, so where are your panties? I can smell you, so rich and full, Rae. Oh you should smell this." Her other hand slide up slowly, now cupping her breast.

"In...in..." She finally loosened the buckle, now just to remove it enough to get to the button. She needed Quinn.

"Words, my girl," Quinn said.

"In my locker, oh Barbara," Rachel groaned, her hips rising as Quinn's fingers brushed very, very lightly against her clit. "Please, more, I need-"

"Oh, and why are they there?" Quinn teased. The zipper was next. So close. Her clit was swollen; she could feel it against her skirt as Quinn moved her hand just above it now, entangled with her landing strip.

"I'm so wet..."

"I know, I can smell it...feel it, even." Quinn bit her ear, holding it in between her teeth. Rachel groaned, but not from the pain. She was ignoring all of it, the awkward position of her body, the bites and squeezes, how her hand was bent in a way she was sure it shouldn't be in, but didn't think about. She just touched Quinn's cock through the fabric, feeling its heat and wanting it on her, in her. "It's so-"

Rachel was wet. Very, very wet. Soaking, in fact. Water dripped down her sweater, her skirt, her stockings. Her wonderfully teased hair now hung about face, in her eyes and mouth. It pooled briefly around her now freezing pussy, which she didn't think should be possible by all fairness in the world, and slid down her legs. Quinn pulled away quickly.

She turned around to see her not-girlfriend dripping wet as well. And the wonderful cock poking out the slit of her jeans, her nipples hard from the cold water or hard from Rachel; she hoped it was the latter. Quinn's tight, black jeans hugged her hips well; the shirt about a man who was disturbed,why were they disturbed, if they were they needed to get help, stretched across her small, marvelously formed breasts. A jacket with its sleeves torn off hung barely on her arms. The only thing that would have made the entire look even hotter, besides being completely soaked, was the stripes. Oh Barbara. Stripes.

Quinn was close to transforming.

"As hot as it would be to see your hobbit pussy fucked so hard by this pussy," Santana said, "you need to cool off." She was standing a few feet behind Quinn holding a bucket, showing something halfway between a smile and a smirk. Brittany looked worried.

"Nice ass, Berry," Santana added; Rachel blushed and pulled down her skirt. "Didn't think you had it in you to go commando, though Quinn here probably loves the fact."

"Quinn," the blonde cheerio said; her backpack in her hands, and the straps twisted and untwisted, "you're-"

"Who the fuck do you-" Quinn stepped forward, her hands in fists and the growl aggressive now, not possessive. The stripes glowed something fierce and she watched as the blonde started to hunch over, ears slowly poking out her short-cropped hair, a tail sliding up and out the black open pants. At least, she thought she saw all of this. Rachel's eyes were kinda glued to Quinn's cock, looking at how it glistened.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray!" Brittany shouted. Rachel stepped back, and Quinn paused mid-stride, the anger disappearing with confusing. "You're too close."

Confusion was replaced by horror as Quinn bolted away, running faster than Rachel thought was possible. "Go to her, Britts," Santana softly said. What was going on?

"She'll trust you more," Brittany replied. "She needs her protector, Tana."

"I know, but she'd trust me to explain this to Berry. She needs her best friend more." Brittany nodded. Rachel started to shiver. Dripping wet, the wrong kind, sans panties and bra, with a sweater that just absorbed the water and skirt that allowed it to slip underneath to her pussy. This was a terrible way to cool off. The blonde cheerio nodded.

"Walk with me, hobbit," Santana said.

"Ww..wh...what just... ha...ha-" Rachel tried, but her jaw started to shake and tremble from the cold... she hated not-winter, with its freezing temperatures and lack of fun snow. And now no Quinn to keep her warm. This just sucked. Rachel was shivering and trembling from the cold, not from the metaphorical blue balls she received.

"I'll explain as we get you properly dressed," Santana took Rachel by the arm and dragged the barely smaller girl to the nearest bathroom. When did she get so strong?

They stepped inside, which was a nice way of saying that the Latina threw her in, and locked the door behind them. Santana tossed Rachel a bag. "Strip and get dressed."

"In..in...fro-"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," she smirked. Which was probably true given the almost daily changing with the cheerios and her almost constant having the sex with Brittany. "Besides, I want to see what has Q's metaphorical panties in a bunch." Rachel glared. "Hop to it Hobbit. Quinn will kill me if you freeze to death."

It wasn't that Rachel was embarrassed by her body; she worked very hard to make it as toned and curved as it was. It was just that... it was Santana, and while they were friends(FRIENDS!), the girl loved to tease her and everyone else. The Latina rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, returning the glare. "I promise, I'll say nothing bad, happy?"

Rachel beamed at her. "Thank you, Santana," she said and pulled off her sweater and threw it to the ground.

"Dios Mio," Santana said, eyes widening as Rachel shimmied her hips to push the skirt down before standing on one foot to remove a stocking then the other. "I love Brittany more than you can imagine-"

"I can imagine a bit," Rachel said, bending over at the waist as she looked through the bag. Panties, shirt, pants, socks and flats. Good. And the hitch in Santana's breath was even better.

"But had I known that you looked like that, Berry... under your clothes? I would have fucked you freshmen year so hard, you'd be ruined for men. "

"I would have probably let you," Rachel said, her attention focused on sliding up the black and stars, how thoughtful, panties on. They fit wonderfully. And comfortable, too. She was going to keep these.

"What the fuck?"

"Yep," The jeans were next, and while a bit tight in the legs, which was okay since it would show off her perfect ass if she did say so herself, were also the correct size.

"You would have-"

"Yep," Rachel said. The t-shirt was red and white, and without a bra, her nipples would certainly be showing. A sacrifice she supposed until she got home. "At least at first."

"Why didn't—Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because being even bi-sexual in this town is looked down upon, given how it treats dad and daddy." Rachel pulled it on; this one barely fit as well, coming just down to her belly button. At least it accented her breasts, something she was extremely happy about. "Besides, do you remember the first thing our second conversation, the one we had after home room together?" She slipped the flats on, her cleavage showing as she bent over to do so.

Santana shook her head. Rachel turned around, keeping the smile on her face. She could laugh at it now, her crush on the freshmen Santana, who had yet to mature fully into this Latina goddess. "You didn't say anything when I saw you at the end of the day. I was gonna say something, maybe ask if we could hang out and everything, see if there was a chance you'd like me like me, but you had already found the other cheerios and Brittany and Quinn. You had a slushie in your hand and threw it at me, probably on order from one of the senior Cheerios who heard about my tendency to be verbose and annoying everyone with how much better I was than they were."

The bathroom was silent and still. Rachel turned her eyes from Santana, looking at the ground and shuffling her feet. "After all, I was just a loser-nobody with a silly little crush on one of the more interesting and cute girls in my grade. I hadn't met Quinn who had become the standard of beauty for the school, but still, you were beautiful even then."

"Yeah," Santana said with a slight furrow of her brows. "I may be hot, but Quinn captures the room and holds it hostage with her body." She was changing the topic ignoring how much Rachel was hurt by what she did, and Rachel was ignoring the tears in the girls eyes. "Completely a turn around from fucking Finnoence."

"I know, right?" Rachel said. "Looking back, I'm trying to see what exactly made him so wonderful to me."

"Because he was one of the first people to treat you nicely." Santana stepped closer to Rachel, almost in her personal space. While she wasn't afraid of the girl any more, learned behavior was difficult to stop. She stepped back until she hit the sink. "Is that...is that why you're friends with us?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nope," she replied, smirking now. "I figured I couldn't go wrong with having three gorgeous women as my friends, gave me something to stare at when I was bored hanging out."

Santana barked out a laugh. "I'm glad to see the bite back, Berry," she said. "You are right, we're the hottest bitches in the school. You could be too if you dressed more like this."

"I prefer to let Quinn see how I dress," Rachel said. "Speaking of... why did you throw the water on us? Was it to stop us from going to far? While I admit looking back I was lost a bit in the haze-"

"Lost?" Santana asked. "Hobbs, you were fucking drowning in it. And it would have ended exactly as I said, you fucking in the hallways, possibly with Quinn in her tiger form."

"How do you know that?" Rachel said. "We have some measure of control. At least I do."

"Don't need to hear about your kinky games with Quinn," Santana grimaced. "You and Britts can compare notes later. Now, over the summer, do you remember how Quinn would avoid us for a few days? How it was difficult to get her out of her house?"

"I assumed she was just having horrible menstrual cycles."

"Kinda?" She looked slightly thoughtful. The face looked awkward compared to what Rachel normally saw on the Latina. "It was more because yours were coming up."

"What do you mean? " Rachel asked. "Why would Quinn care about- Oh... oh."

"Figured it out."

"I calculated my cycle once, after a health class," Rachel said, blushing bright red. I know roughly when my peak ovulation period is. It was during then, right?"

"Q was right horny then, had a hard time concentrating on anything, had a hard time understanding it as well."

"She told me about her struggles this summer."

"Cool," Santana walked over and sat on the ground. She patted the spot next to her. Rachel tried to raise an eyebrow to emulate Quinn be failed. "This is one of the cleaner ones, Hobbs, so don't get your fresh panties in a bunch. Britts and Q are gonna be a while and you need to learn a few things because this relationship-"

"We're not dating, yet," Rachel said.

"But you're willing to fuck in the hallways? Girl, you are as freaky as I thought you'd be," Santana said. "Seriously, sit down. We do need to talk. Or I talk and you listen. While that is normally against your standard modus operandi, you need to know this because it'll help Q."

Rachel walked over and sat right next to Santana, saying nothing. The Latina was right in that she would want to speak and talk about this, defend her not-girlfriend, but the glare told her to remain quiet and to just listen.

"Despite what the school thinks, Britts is Q's best friend. They get along great, and love talking about animals and cartoons and books. Q and I are really good friends, and we have our own conversations-arguments and disagreements, but nothing like those two. Britts knew Lucy before she changed her name to Quinn and remained friends with the girl for so long. Hell, she even moved to this town just to continue to be with her. I love the girl—my girls, both of them, but Britts and Q are bros and have been before I moved here. Girls knew each other from preschool, being blonde buddies and everything. I was the odd one out, a tag along, until middle school." Santana smiled, probably thinking of their past.

"I was the first to learn of Q's," she waved a hand about, "Issues. I was the first to comfort her and hold her as she cried about her strangeness and how she hated herself so much. I was the one who promised her that I would take care of her and protect her and Britt from anything. She was broken, Berry, I'd never seen her like that; this strong and powerful girl who was also a tiger, a cute little kitten really-"

"Please tell you have pictures," Rachel interrupted.

"Fuck yeah," Santana smirked. "Never want to forget that adorable girl, even though she was twelve when I found out. Q had grown into her body by then, hitting puberty and all that shit early. She was perfect even back then, and it hurt to see her that way. By making the promise, I was part of their group, and my life turned around.

"Being a person of color sucks in this town just as much as being gay or lesbian, Hobbs. I hope you understand that. You are ethnic, but you pass, you know that?" Rachel nodded. "I didn't, and I got into so many fights in middle school, sticking up for myself and everything, sixty seven fights over three years. I was more of a badass then Puck really, and he was just a manwhore, fucking milfs and non hot moms because he could, because his dad left him and he had to be this idea of a man. I was the hot Latin chick who lost her virginity at fourteen to some fuck who didn't care. I had sex and fought to protect myself, but mostly to protect Q.

"She could be cold and distant. It helped control the tiger then, when they were separate," Santana said, closing her eyes. "Brittany would be her happiness and joy, living life so full and free, without worry of the consequences that her sperm donor force fed her, trying to control everything about her life. I was her anger, her dislike and hatred. It was the best we could do so she stayed in control. When she saw you, though, that control was threatened. Q was so confused and she hates not understanding things, not knowing why. And the feelings you invoked in her freshmen year scared her, and so I lashed out when she couldn't. I always did, so the tiger didn't have to, so it wouldn't fucking kill someone.

"Mami says I protect Q because of the druidish heritage we got from cross-breeding with some celts, or some other fucking pagan society, a while back. No one ever told her about Quinn's issues, but she knows, I don't know how, and Q doesn't know that she knows. She's the one who taught me a lot about weretigers and their culture and decimation slash genocide, and why Q should be protected, and what I could do to help. Be a warden against the dangers of the wild, she said, or some crap like that. I didn't believe it until this year. That was everything up to last year, when we opened our eyes and you found us."

"You found me, you mean."

Santana shook her head. "Britts had it right when she said you saved us, Rachel." She stopped breathing for a second; Santana never, not even when they became friends over the summer, used her first name. "You saved me from my hatred and anger, from being consumed with the need to protect and shelter Quinn. You saved Brittany from being lost in herself, giving into the delirium of happiness and joy. And you certainly saved Quinn. Never has that girl been happier and stable, for the most part. Which leads us to today."

"And the bucket of water."

"And the bucket of water," Santana said, smiling. "Quinn is an animal. She is both human and an animal, and listen closely, because this is important: you can not forget that she is a fucking animal. Animals live to do three things and three things only: Sleep, eat, and fuck. While her human-self is capable and wants so much more, the animal is her instinct. Think of human as logic and the animal as emotion, it's easier that way, and you come close to understanding Q."

"How do you-"

"Mami," Santana replied. She picked up Rachel's hand, her thumb rubbing the back, trying to be soothing. "When you are ovulating, Quinn's control over her emotions slip, her desire to fuck increases. I have no idea why it's you versus anyone else, but it is. And since she grew that large cock of hers, becoming a male tiger, grats by the way."

"Thank you, I am rather happy to have both worlds," Rachel replied.

"Britts and I have a strap-on for that," Santana said, and Rachel blushed, "At least until... never mind. So right now, with you in the prime for baby-making juice to make a baby, her tiger wants to do the third of its three primal urges. Given that you are now somewhat getting freaky, it will make it harder to control. So you'll have to be the one."

"That's gonna be kinda hard," Rachel replied.

"I know Quinn will be-"

"Not that," Rachel said. Never had she had this embarrassing of a conversation before. "No, Quinn and I have an arrangement."

"How so?"

"I dominate her in the bedroom, she's in control outside of it."

"So hot," Santana said. "Britts and I are stealing that."

"Really? What else-"

"Compare notes with Brittany later, Hobbs," Santana said. "You don't want to switch it around do you? Fine, what do you know of BDSM?"

Rachel blushed. "I've been researching sexual aspects recently and I stumbled upon-"

"So nothing right?" Santana said. "Fifty Shades of Grey did a shitty job of explaining it, glorifying it without really understanding it, while making it incredible unsafe through fantasizing it for those who might actually be interested. BDSM, specifically the domination portion, deals with dominant and submissive relations. Some more committed than others. But what you need to understand is that the submissive is who is control, they set the levels of what they can handle, they can tell you stop, they tell you want they want. The dom should comply with those wishes because its a relationship of trust and care, not controlling."

"And you know this, how?"

Santana smiled. "I never kiss and tell."

"You do all the time," Rachel said, kicking her foot out. "You can't stop talking about it."

"In general, never details, right?" Rachel nodded. "Good, you understand, kinda, maybe, probably not. Look, when Quinn dominates you, it's for your pleasure, when you dominate her, it's for her pleasure, just remember that. So when she gets like this, remember that you are in control, that you decide what you need. She will never hurt you kay? I won't let her." Rachel nodded again. "The tiger wants you so much, but it will never, never hurt you. I'll make sure of it."

"Is that why..."

"You aren't ready for sex," Santana said with a shake of her head. "As horny as you are, and believe me its not that cold in here." Rachel crossed her arms over her breasts, flushing even more. "You aren't ready, at least with Quinn. Take your time, enjoy the rest of the bases, and don't swing for the fences every time. Just enjoy having her around."

Rachel was silent; her mind racing and struggling to form cohesive thoughts. Maybe Santana was right, maybe she was just enjoying the not-relationship so much that the sexual aspect highlighted it, enhanced it. She didn't want to give it up. Spending time with her was great, but right now, Rachel wanted to play with Quinn. "I'm not saying slow down, but don't move any faster. It'll make it when you lose your virginity to Quinn that much more special."

"So you'll protect me?" Santana nodded.

"Of all things I just said, that's what you take away?" Rachel smiled. "Of course, you're one of mine now, and it's only right that I protect my own." Santana looked away, a soft gentle smile, so foreign and strange on the girls face. "And maybe, you could be my best friend so that-" Rachel smiled and hugged Santana tightly around the neck, pressing her breasts against her and practically climbing in her lap. She hadn't had a protector before, and a best friend sounded even better. Quinn would be her not-girlfriend-eventually-turned-girlfriend and Santana could be her not-yet-best-friend-but-soon-to-be. It was kinda fun idea, when she really thought about it

"I leave for a few minutes," Brittany said, "and I come back to this?" Rachel jumped back, pushing Santana away. She wasn't cheating, this was just being friendly, she knew it. She hoped Santana knew it, but the Latina didn't say a word, smirking at Rachel to dig herself out of the hole she was in. Having a best friend and she was ruining that within seconds. Seconds!

"Quinn..what...why.. how'd you find... it's not what you...," Rachel tried to say. Her not-girlfriend stood behind the Cheerio-dressed blonde, smiling? Why was she-

"This is so great!" Brittany rushed forward and knelt in front of Rachel, picking up her hands and starting to bounce them in Rachel's lap. "Oh Santana can finally have a bff, like Quinn and I. It'll be wonderful. Now she won't feel left out when I want to hang out with her."

"Britts," Santana whined.

"And then you and I can hang out when they need to be bitchy or something, it'll be awesome. We'll have cake and ice cream and cookies and a tea party—have you had a tea party? I mean I know I'm supposed to be too old for it, but sometimes its nice just to sit around and drink tea and pretend you're the queen of England commanding the troops to fire upon the Spaniards. This is fantastic!"

"Molte benne," Santana replied. Brittany squealed, which echoed nicely in the bathroom and tackled her girlfriend. Quinn walked over and offered a hand to Rachel. She had changed too, wearing a sundress, showing off her toned body. The desire boiled up, but she decided it was better to be modest and gentle, then horny and rough, despite the fact that she was really the latter. It was better for Quinn.

The blonde picked up Rachel's wet clothes, wrung them out in the sink before throwing them into a plastic bag found in the bag that Santana gave her. Quinn had not spoken since entering the bathroom; she just offered her hand to the diva and pulled her up with a grace that she was not expecting. They left the couple who was probably dangerously close to fucking on the floor.

Quinn led Rachel from the school, carrying both their bags and their wet clothes, all without releasing Rachel's hand. She gave a squeeze every time Rachel looked up at her, but said nothing. The stripes were gone, and Rachel, who wanted to pout at the thought, saw no tell-tale bump in the dress where her cock should have been.

She didn't try to start up a conversation.

They reached the almost empty parking lot, and without much preamble, they got into Rachel's car, Quinn in the driver's seat. She held the keys in her hand, just over the ignition. "I'm sorry," Quinn said. "I was overwhelmed by my senses and-"

"You don't have to apologize," Rachel said, "Santana explained things to me."

"She told you about my control issues."

"About how you want to fuck me until I'm pregnant with your kittens? Yes."

"Can you..." Quinn closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. "Can you please not curse right now."

Rachel frowned. "Sorry."

"It's fine...I'm just struggling here, and I need..." Quinn looked over. "I need you to understand that I want you, Rae. I want you so bad, it is driving me mad."

"Beatles, 'She's So heavy,' record in September of '69, written by Lennon, though both Lennon and McCartney appear as writers. A great deal of psychedelic influence. Not one of their better...one...but..." Quinn was smiling down at Rachel, amused and patient. She shrunk into her seat, trying to smile, but the embarrassment was enough to hold that fakeness back. "Sorry."

"Do not," Quinn said. "I thought it was wonderful that you know it. It was why I said that." Rachel looked back up and beamed. Her weirdness and knowledge of music bothered some people, but Quinn accepted it, liked it even.

"Cool."

"All I am asking is that, for now, while we are in public," Quinn said, sighing heavily. She started the car, but refused to finish her sentence.

"I'll behave, Quinn," Rachel said. "I promise. And I'll make sure you do." She didn't want to, but at least in public, she could control herself for Quinn's sake. The girl was not a public figure, who adored attention like Rachel did. She wasn't lying when she exaggerated that she was like Tinker Bell in needing applause to live. "Are we still on?"

"For the date?" A feral smirk grew on Quinn's face, and Rachel wanted to be afraid, she really did. Her body just decided to grow a bit warm, and she felt warm again. "I wouldn't want to miss it for the world."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Author's Note: BAH! Graduate School is a bitch sometimes. I apologize about being late. No I haven't forgotten this story; I have completed two chapters after this, and they are currently being beta'ed. I actually found something of a plot in chapter 8, so yay, not just smut that is taking forever to score a home run.

So my apologizes, my dear readers, for being so late. I'll have something posted quickly up soon after this, just to make sure I get back on some what of a schedule. Quick question: I can easily make this Faberrittana story. Should I or just keep it two couples? 

Anyways, I own's nothing from Glee, sadly, because then I wouldn't have forced Quinn Fabray off the show or to the side in really crappy plots. Please Read and Review. As always, thanks to my beta, Lisaand.

Because I can,

SurrealSteamPuckk (WeOffendedShadows)

******

November 10th 

"Your friends are cockblockers, Quinn," Rachel said, slamming her locker shut. Quinn leaned nearby, smiling down at her not-girlfriend, a term that the diva insisted upon using since they had not formalized their relation yet. One date a couple does not make. This ignored the fact that they had sexted each other constantly over the weekend, where they did not meet up. Between Rachel's over abundance of commitments to various activities, including the play and Glee, and Quinn's recent decision to pursue art and writing as means of taking up her time, they were not able to find a time that worked best for them, and Rachel's parents.

The Berry's were wonderful people, kind and support of Rachel's decision to explore her sexuality with the girl who bully and tormented her through most of high school. They were okay with Rachel being somewhat sexually active, given that Quinn had to sit through the conversation where she learned that the diva was on the pill, and that if she was going to have sex any time soon, make sure her door was closed. Fear was not an issue, embarrassment on the other hand was. "How so," she asked, leaning next to Rachel as the girl fumbled around with her books.

Rachel spun her lock around and started up the combination. "Santana called, no demanded, that I help her yesterday, hence our missed 'date', if you wish to be charitable and call it such."

"Spending time together is not a date?"

"No," Rachel said. She threw her books in and pulled out a different set. "I do not. We spend time together as it is; a date is us planning something special and following through on it. If anything, that was a not-date that failed to launch."

Quinn nodded, sighing at the thought. "So just like I'm your not-girlfriend, right?

"Yes, exactly," Rachel sighed and turned to the blonde, though refused to look her in the eye. "No, nothing like that, I'm sorry. I'm frustrated."

"Anything I can help with? I am better now, the tiger is under control and rather ashamed with how it acted-"

"No, sweetie, it's not that." Rachel shrugged, and looked down the hallway at some of the other Gleeks, specifically Kurt and Mercedes talking.

"They bothering you."

"No."

"Then what is wrong?"

"I don't know. Between the play and Glee and us and Finn's being..." Rachel waved her hand in the air, as if she could grab the word that she did not wish to say. Quinn stood up straight. Usually, Rachel had a word for everything, a paragraph really.

"What is the oaf doing now?" Quinn asked.

Rachel looked at her watch and shifted on her feet. "Nothing, just being him, I promise."

"And us are you unhappy with us?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, but Rachel wouldn't look at her. "Or is it something else?"

"I'm just stressed over Glee." She avoided the first question.

"What's wrong with Glee?" As far Quinn knew, everything was fine. The last few practices were lackluster, sure but nothing seemed amiss. She was acting like their first year when she was scared of her. God, did the tiger run her off already?

"I'm tired of fighting Mercedes over solos, when clearly she knows I'm better than her," Rachel said. She held her books tight her chest. "I've got class across the school, I'll see you at play practice, yes?" Without another word, Rachel walked off, leaving Quinn standing next to an unlocked locker.

Sighing, she closed up and locked it so her not-girlfriend would not panic about her forgetful nature. She rested her forehead on the locker for a second. Trying to date girls was more difficult than Santana or Brittany ever lead her believe. Being one, she thought she could understand what they were going through, but clearly, Rachel remained a mystery to her.

"What's shaking, Lucy the Tiger?" Santana said.

"Rachel is acting..." Quinn trailed off, she did not want to sound whiny, it would not go well for her in front of the girl.

"Distant? Awkward? Scared?" Santana replied. "Rachel?"

"Yeah, I do not know, it is just," Quinn tried to speak, but the fact that Rachel now did not want to spend time with her scared her. Nine days and her life changed so drastically, from expecting Rachel to never be part of her life again to having the diva be a center of it. Not the only one, but a major part of her life that it was difficult to think. "Did I do something wrong? Is this about-"

"Aww," Brittany said, she wrapped the tigress in a hug from behind "It's not about Friday, don't worry kay?"

"You sure?"

Brittany nodded and let go, "It's Glee and the play. Mercedes is being a diva in both, demanding so much and not really showing that she deserves it, only that she desires it, and Rachel feels that she needs to diva back, so they are fighting over solos in Glee." There were moments that Quinn thanked the lord Brittany was her best friend; she had more insight into people than anyone, and always knew exactly what to say.

"I know about that," Quinn replied. "It feels like something more and-"

"It's nothing, but that shit," Santana said. "She's freaking out about college and stuff, and since we discouraged her from running against Kurt, she's going nuts with the last things she has. And she won't express it because she's Rachel fucking Berry and can handle anything and everything."

Quinn nodded. She had not been around much, but at least had seen what Rachel had been doing. "Girl's focus is all laser point and shit on herself, which would be fine and everything, if it weren't for fucking everyone else."

"Want me to talk to her?"

Brittany shook her head. "Nope, Tana will." Santana was probably happy that she stood behind her girlfriend at the moment given how quickly the Latina turned pale. Quinn did not think that she could get that white.

"Britts, I don't think-"

"As Rachel's bff, you need to step up and take charge of this," Brittany said. "Just like I do with Quinn. Anything from her will be tainted by their history and relationship-"

"Not-relationship," Quinn added.

"You know that whole mess is fucked up," Santana said. "Both of you want to fuck each other raw and yet..." She stepped up and Brittany wrapped an arm around her. It was weird seeing Santana act so, demure and gentle. The thought was down right scary.

"We are going at Rachel's pace," Quinn said. "Especially after Friday."

Santana nodded. "Feeling guilty?"

"A little, well, a great deal actually, and Rachel is so distant right now, which worries me," Quinn said. "I am not sure were we stand. She did not talk much with me this weekend after that and backed off on the texting."

"Sexting you mean," Santana said. Quinn blushed and nodded. "Finally breaking that exterior huh? Good for you. If someone had to do it, it would be Berry."

She sighed. While it was understandable that Rachel would be distracted, and Quinn figured if she ever wanted to remain and make the relationship work she would have to get used to it, she did not like it. Just more than a hello and goodbye would be nice, responses to her texts or phone calls, but Quinn understood that Rachel was busy and devoted. Maybe she just wanted it to be towards her. "I'll deal with Hobbs, kay? Don't worry your hot ass off, Q."

Quinn nodded, said goodbye, and walked to her class. She still felt like something was wrong, and Santana and Brittany really did not assure her of anything. Like many things in her life, it was probably her fault and there was nothing she could do to fix it. One chance and she blew it within a week.

School was going to be terrible this week, she knew it. 

November 11th:

Rachel walked the hallways with a purpose. Glee practice went terribly and tonight she had the play, plus dance lessons where her teacher was calling her out on being distracted, which she wasn't, she just had a lot on her mind at the moment given school and homework and Glee and the play. Everything was piling up.

At home, when she got back from lessons and practice, it would be almost eight and she was too exhausted to deal with anyone. She just wanted to finish her homework and then sleep. Every day started early and she needed to keep up because this is what Broadway would be like. Nothing, she told herself in the mirror every night as she went about her nightly beauty regiment, was more important than that. Nothing could compare to her life-long dream. 

Someone grabbed her and pulled her into the bathroom with enough force that she nearly fell over. Before she could say anything, the door was locked. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to help," Santana said. Rachel turned around and glared at the Latina. She was leaning on the door, looking smug. "That diva look isn't going to solve this."

"Solve what?" Rachel asked. "Everything is fine."

"Glee sucks, doesn't it?"

"Of course, Mercedes is demanding more and more solos and complaining how much better she is than me. Hell everyone seems to be against the fact that Mr. Schuester decided that it would be for the best if Finn and I, as the stars of the Glee-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Hobbs," Santana replied. "Do you have any idea why we're so upset? As captain, do you even know your squad."

"What are you talking about?" Santana stepped forward, and the girl, no woman, in front of her was no longer Santana, her supposed best friend though that had yet to be proven really, but rather Santana, current head cheerio and second under Quinn Fabray. "And how dare you assume that I do not know anything about show choir. I'll have you know that-"

"Cut the crap Berry," Santana said. "No one is fucking arguing you with your knowledge of music and Broadway and all that shit. What we're tired of is our captain not being a fucking leader and doing her job." Rachel walked backwards until she was against the wall, but the Cheerio kept coming.

"I have contributed-"

Santana touched her sternum with just a finger, glaring down at Rachel. "To your own fucking success. Not once have you done what is best for the squad.

"You've been to the football games, right when Quinn was in charge? I've seen you at our practices sometimes, stalking her?" Rachel opened her mouth but Santana shook her head. "No talking, just nod yes or no."

Rachel nodded.

"How many times was Quinn front and center?" That was an unfair question which she could not answer with a single yes or no. "Can you even remember? No, you can't. Of the forty five games Quinn participated in, and twenty nine competitions we've had, she was the star once. But she was always our captain.

"There was never a fucking doubt about that, Hobbs. No one questioned her commit or knowledge or skill in gymnastics and choreography, ever." Quinn knew about choreography? "No one dared question her when she called us out on being sloppy and unprepared. And no one ever fucking questioned her about who was going to be the focus, and it was always showcasing their best qualities. Brittany led the dancers because Quinn knew how to use her body like no other person; I cheered in front because Quinn knew I could be the loudest and strongest voice on the field. Sue maybe be our coach, who taught us everything we needed to know, but Quinn demanded that we do it. Both demanded our best, and Quinn ensured that we were.

"Why do think we were so successful for three years? When Sue kicked her off the squad, everything fell apart. We were terrible until Quinn showed up one day that Sue was absent and got us going again. Got the squad back on track and being the best we could, even when she was struggling with the pregnancy, in case you didn't know, was not easy for her in any way, she was there helping us at the cost of her own dignity and pride. Hate her for what she did to you, and I know you do, even though you care about her now, but she united us and held us together better than anyone could. Do you even fucking understand why I'm telling you this?"

Rachel shook her head. Santana was inches from her face, glaring at her now. The HBIC was present and she was not scared, she couldn't be.

"Because you are not a fucking leader. You are not a captain."

"How dare-"

"How dare I? How dare I?" She raised her voice, and Rachel hoped someone heard it to come and save her. Where was Quinn? "How dare you make the show only about Rachel Berry? How dare you focus solely on your skill, your qualities, your gift and never once offer to help a single one of us better ourselves. Schue may have gotten us together, but you are pushing us apart.

"Mercedes is a fucking bitch of a diva, and you can never compete with her on that. That's because she is so arrogant and hateful that nothing else matters to her, except herself. You need to be better than that. You should be better than that." Rachel leaned forward a bit, trying to gain a bit of power back, but Santana didn't move.

"I am-"

"Acting like a spoiled brat. Don't give me that bullshit that you are better than us, because we know. And instead of shoving it into our face, you should be helping others with your talent, making the people around you better. We may be stuck in this town, but you don't have to fucking remind us every day of our miserable lives." There were tears in Santana's eyes. Why was... oh Barbara. "We may not be you, but we still want to shine every once in a while. For some of us, this may be our only chance and instead of making sure we all get it, showing us how to come close to what you do, you mock us with your talent. You force us to constantly be your backup, as if the world revolves around you.

"So don't fucking tell me that you're our captain. Not once have you stepped aside willingly for others, to let them have the spot light because you knew one day it'd be yours. Moreso if it never happened. Not once had you come any of us and offered guidance and tutoring on our roles and sounds, instead just berating us because we weren't fucking perfect on the Rachel Berry scale of singing, which has two fucking settings: shit and Rachel Berry. If you aren't the latter, you're fucked and stuck with being the former. You're Diana Ross and you're fucking leaving us to be the Supremes. We're suppose to be the New Directions, not the God damn Rachel Fucking Berry show and her worthless peons."

She didn't cry and her voice never rose above her normal level, and maybe that was the worst part. Rachel understood pain, she suffered through taunts and leers and slushies, but this was different. This was acceptance that it was impossible to better, impossible to escape the world you were born into and the desolation of that fact. "Oh Barbara, I'm so-"

"Don't you dare," Santana said. She stepped back, and Rachel watched as she fought back the tears, refusing to let any other emotion show. "Don't you fucking dare, Manhands, you are not allowed to feel sorry for us. You are certainly not allowed to fucking pity us. We don't want it." What she didn't say was herself. That Rachel was not allowed to pity her, specifically. "Not after what we did to you. We made you're life hell, and this is how you returned it and that's fine. But it's time you fixed it. You forgave us because we changed, willingly so, and proved it day after day. It's your fucking turn."

Rachel nodded and stepped forward following the Latina. This time she backed up and she chased her, until the Latina was against the door. "Okay," Rachel said, and hugged a fighting Santana. "You'll get free, I promise. I won't let you be stuck here."

"I said-"

"I know what you said," Rachel replied. She moved Santana's head down to her shoulder and felt as arms wrapped around her back and pulling her closer. "This is not pity, this is not me trying to make myself feel better. I swear. This is me trying to act like the best friend you want, that I want to be."

Santana was silent, but her shoulders hitched up and down. Rachel felt something wet on her shoulder, but ignored it. She didn't say anything, just held the Latina close and gentled caressed her back. "I'll fix it."

"Kay." The conversation was over and done with, and Rachel learned enough about Santana not to bring up the emotional break down or the tears. Santana stepped back and wiped away her tears. Rachel turned away, giving her time to ready herself.

"What brought this on?" Rachel asked. She moved over to the mirror and tried to straight her cloths and hair.

"Huh?"

"Someone brought this up, and you wouldn't talk to me like this unless..." Rachel said. "Oh."

"She's hurting, but understands why you've been avoiding her."

"I haven't been avoiding Quinn, I've been-"

"Too busy for a text?" Santana stepped up next to the girl.

"Oh."

"She knows she did you wrong last week, and wants to make it right," Santana replied. "But you've been so focused on you, your crazy shit with the play and Glee and college, that she thinks she really fucked up and freaked out and you're trying to break-up with-"

"No," Rachel turned and looked at her. "Never."

"You're treating her like it."

"I didn't..."

"A captain should take care of her subordinates, and should make sure each knows they are important and wanted. A girlfriend, even if you're just not-girlfriends, which is fucking hilarious, should make sure that their partner is cherished and wanted, especially so. Finn was a terrible first boyfriend, never taught you what you should know, even if you would be acting by his poor excuse for an example. It's okay, Auntie Snix can and will." Rachel blushed and looked back in the mirror.

"She never said anything," Rachel said softly, looking down at the sink. Her not-girlfriend had never mentioned how difficult she made Glee for the rest of them, how much her divaness was hurting them.

"It wasn't her place," Santana replied. "How would you have reacted had she come up to you and said that stuff. She couldn't be as direct and angry as I was, and certainly never wants to hurt you again, Hobbs. No matter what you do to her, how much you hurt her, she'll try her hardest to never hurt you at all. She... cares about you greatly."

"You always pause when you say that." Rachel said. "Why don't you just say love?" She turned and clapped in excitement. "She loves me? Oh Barbara, this is wonderful and -"

"Because love takes time and commitment and energy from two parties, not just one crushing on the other. Maybe you'll get there, I hope you do," Santana said. "But it takes two, Hobbs, and you need to be in this with her, help her when she needs it, and let her help you when you do."

"Okay," Rachel said.

"Now, I'm missing lunch and they have curly fries, and I wants them," Santana said. "Just remember: A captain takes charge and does what is necessary for the good of the group, leads by example. It'll be difficult, but in the end, you'll end up happier and probably more friends."

More friends(FRIENDS!)? Rachel barely knew what to do with three. More would be wonderful. "I will." Santana washed her hands in silence, giving Rachel time apparently. Or she was just done with the conversation.

The majority of it, and the most important parts would have to be dissected and detailed later, when she was alone in bed. It would be difficult; almost impossible too, but Santana had told her this not to break, like she would have once, but rather to make her better. It hurt; it hurt a lot and she wanted to cry, but it took more for Santana to give her that insight then it did for Rachel to hear it. "Santana?" She barely spoke above a whisper, eyes remaining on the mirror.

The Latina started to walk out. "Hmmm?"

"Thank you." 

******

November 12th:

Rachel hadn't been able to talk to Quinn yet. Her not-girlfriend had avoided her the rest of the day, and wasn't answering texts or calls. She knew she was pushing her, but Rachel wanted to fix what she caused. She needed to. It wasn't fair to Quinn, everything that happened, and she needed her not-girlfriend to know exactly what she felt.

Morning came, and no calls or texts, leaving Rachel rather morose and disappointed. But she carried on. Quinn didn't arrive at her locker, same as the day before, she didn't appear in the hallway with a shy wave, or anything .Rachel couldn't find her, and it was annoying that her not-girlfriend was avoiding her, while understandable.

Brittany was the one who mentioned at lunch that Quinn had decided to work through it one of the few art studios in peace. She had a free period, so that meant almost an hour and half of alone time. Rachel was happy that she had a similar schedule, but usually they left each other to work on what they wanted to, or rather, Quinn let Rachel be a diva and practice incessantly.

Santana was right. Rachel's nightly reflection was rather degrading and hurtful towards herself, and though she would never admit it to the cheerio, she was right. Rachel was a selfish bitch and had originally wanted the title of Glee captain for the prestige and honor of it. She had forced herself into center stage, to showcase why she would leave this horrible town, but never tried to help anyone else, to let them fulfill their dreams and desires. It was about Rachel Berry, and she felt kinda horrible about it. Only kinda because Mercedes was a bitch before this and nothing had really changed, and she doubt it would.

In terms of Quinn, she was avoiding her, but not for the reasons the girl thought. It wasn't frightening how aggressive the tiger-side of Quinn was; Rachel was frightened by her own response. She gave in so completely and utterly, letting her not-girlfriend call her degrading names and she knew had it continued, pain would have followed. That was not the type of relationship she thought she wanted. Rachel enjoyed being the top, and controlling Quinn beneath her. It felt special since the blonde was hers to take care and cherish and protect. But maybe it was okay that she was also controlled and protected. Now that she knew about the tiger's lust, Rachel would be better prepared, mentally and physically, to help her not-girlfriend.

She found Quinn in an art-studio room, door closed and lights turned off. She was on her back, sleeping. Apparently, she had decided the pseudo-leather jacket would make a great pillow and balled it up beneath her head. The black shirt rode up slightly, exposing abs that Rachel would fondly call herself. Tight, black jeans again.

Quinn was a deep sleeper. Rachel discovered it when she slept over two Sundays ago. Last time, it took pushing the blonde out of bed to wake her up. Even then, it took a few moments for her to realize what was going on. Apparently, bacon does a better job, Quinn said, but that was too cruel to pigs.

Rachel locked the door and dropped her bag and books by the entrance. Practice would come later. They were alone in the school and, most importantly, in a private place. She smiled as she toed off her flats, removed some clothing to be comfortable, and walked over to Quinn. She stood over her not-girlfriend, smiling down at her. She didn't snore, which was disappointing, and looked as perfect asleep as she did awake, which was frustrating, because even when Quinn was begging under her hips, she still looked so beautiful it neared frightening levels.

They were alone and in a private place, and she owed Quinn for all the trouble she caused between them. She knelt down right next to her hip, and Rachel slowly ran her fingers up and down Quinn's belly. She moaned and frowned in her sleep, her arms moving to cover her face. "Noooooo," she said, and tried to roll away, but Rachel stopped her movement.

"Hey," she said, and Quinn removed one arm from her face, looking around for the voice. She sat up slightly and smiled at Rachel in front of her, her hand continuing to drift up and down her belly. The abs felt so firm and stiff, she hadn't really explored Quinn's body and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to.

"Hey," Quinn said, drawing her word out and trying to rub away the sleep that lingered in her.

"Don't get up, kitty," Rachel said.

"Rae, we are not in private."

Rachel smiled down at Quinn, her other hand starting to play with Quinn's belt. "The door is locked, no one knows we're here right?" The tigress just nodded. "The teacher's gone for the day?" Another nod. "And the lights are off, so no one will notice that you and I are here. So we are in a private place, no?"

Quinn didn't move as Rachel flicked her belt undone. "Now, kitty, use your words. Are we or are we not in a private place?"

She kept her mouth closed, though her eyes never moved from Rachel. Good, at least she was watching. It was for the best that she wore a skirt today, this one dark blue and a bit longer than her previous skirt.

"Yes, we are."

Rachel slapped lightly against her abs. "Speak properly, kitty, remember what I told you?" Quinn nodded. "So do it.

"Yes, we're in a private place." Quinn moaned as the button of her pants were undone and the zipper pushed down.

"Don't transform," Rachel said.

Quinn leaned up on her elbows. "Why not?"

"Because," Rachel said. "As much as fun as I have with that side of you, I care about this side too. Plus I just want to play with your pussy a little bit, maybe let you play with mine."

"I still say we're in public," Quinn said.

"Lean back down kitty, and let me get to work." She gave Rachel one last glare before laying back down. Rachel smiled and opened Quinn's pants up as much as she could. "Commando? Oh, this is just awesome. And you have hair. Why do you have hair now? It was cleanly shaved before."

Quinn just stared at the ceiling. She was being ignored. That would not do. "Here's what I want, Quinn," Rachel said. Quinn sat up fully, though she didn't remove her hand from her pants. "I want to talk to you like I should have this week. I want to talk about somethings that I've done wrong and want to make it up to you. I want to do this. I want to have a conversation. But that requires you talking."

"And your hand down my pants?" Quin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think of it as motivation, if you stop talking, I stop doing this." She slide her hand further down until her finger tips found Quinn's clit, for a girl who grew a penis almost at will, Rachel was figuring that it was bit a bit larger than normal, but Quinn's was slightly smaller than her own. It was an awkward angle for her hand, so Rachel slid up and Quinn braced her legs, still looking at her.

The angle on her hand relaxed, she pushed down a bit further, until her fingers started to play. She slid up and down Quinn's lit, occasionally dipping it to her pussy, but just barely. Enough to keep Quinn interested. "Rae," she bucked her hips slightly, trying to slide the hand further down. "If you stop talking, I'll stop playing with you. In fact, hips up, kitty." Quinn arched her back and Rachel pushed her jeans down until she had very easy access to Quinn's pussy. Much better.

In doing so, she had forgotten about Quinn's hand which found its way under her skirt and near her bare pussy. "Oh," Quinn said, "What happened to yours?"

"I figured I didn't want to ruin them given how wet I got last time, kitty," Rachel smirked, and gasped as two cold fingers touched her lips.

"If you start talking too much, I'll stop," Quinn said, smiling.

"Naughty kitty," Rachel smirked back, slowly stroking Quinn now, while the blonde pushed hers up into Rachel's pussy, her thumb finding her clit and pressing it gentle, not enough for her desires, but just enough so Rachel was aware.

"What," Quin asked, breathing in deeply as Rachel reached out with her other hand and pushed up her shirt, and Quinn's breasts, god how did they get- "Do you want to talk about?"

"For starters," Rachel said, the fingers in her pussy slowing down, but at least were moving. Her own stopped as she looked down at her not-girlfriend. "I'm sorry."

"Why, oh god Rae," Quinn asked, biting her lip as Rachel circled her clit before returned to fuck her pussy again. "Why are you sorry? You didn't-"

"Of course, mmm," Rachel said, trying to follow Quinn's fingers as she stopped moving, but the blonde would have just stopped. "I do; I treated you horrible, part of it is my fault, mainly because I'm scared."

"Of me?" Quinn asked and started twist her hips, trying to get more pressure, but Rachel seemed to have better control, and just continued at a sedate pace. "I scared you, Rae? Oh god, I swear I never wanted that and-" She leaned down to kiss her on the lips.

They hadn't really kissed before, really really kiss, like a couple should. Sure they played with each other, but kissing was never part of it. Her nose bumped Quinn's for a second, and she flashed a smile, looking down at her lips before turning her head slightly and continuing down. Her fingers continued thrusting, though Quinn's stopped, probably in shock. It was okay, she liked the feeling that Quinn was in her, even if the girl was paralyzed from shock and wasn't moving for the moment.

Rachel pressed down; her lips glided over Quinn's as they tried to overlap, but her bottom lip slipped into Quinn's mouth. She took hold of it and bite softly and Rachel pushed a bit harder on Quinn's pussy and clit, her forefinger and middle reaching the last knuckle. She curled her hand and Quinn arched into her mouth, pulling her lip with her.

Quinn let go when Rachel took a nipple in her hand, rolling it around and pulling on it. "Please," She whispered. She felt the breathe on her lips, a smile crossing her lips as her kitty continued to move with her. Quinn's eyes were half-closed, and Rachel watched as they twisted about under the lids, trying to find something to focus on. She reached up and wrapped a hand in the diva's hard, tightening and pulling her back down for a kiss.

Their teeth bounced slightly, though Rachel didn't mind as continued the movement, tracing Quinn's teeth with her tongue before biting down on her lip, harder than the blonde had. Another thrust and a curl of her fingers, Quinn moaned into. "Good kitty," her words danced on Quinn's lips.

She shifted her body so she was almost laying on Quinn, though the blonde had yet to remove her fingers, sliding her hand to her ass, pulling her up closer so their breasts were right next to hers. Rachel pulled her hands away, switching them so she could get a bitter grip on her not-girlfriend's pussy and soft breasts.

Quinn pulled back and Rachel rested her forehead on hers, breathing in deeply her scene. "You taste like berries," She said to the girl underneath her. Quinn laughed, and the vibrations shook her breasts and Rachel's.

She cast her eyes down, caught notice of her breasts interlocked with Quinn's. Rachel never compared them before. She knew she did not have large breasts, but Quinn's looked softer, smaller, rosy, so much paler compared to her lightly color skin. Rachel pressed down on Quinn, and cupped her cheek.

Quinn let go of her hair; her hand grazing her skin as it moved down her neck light touches, continuing down her back to her shirt and disappearing underneath it. Rachel gasped as Quinn's hand rested just below her bra. She looked back up and saw only very small pale green rings around circular voids.

Black holes are just extremely dense stars that suck other matter into it. Rachel Berry was a star and she felt herself being pulled further into Quinn, and she was okay with that. "I was scared of myself, Quinn," She whispered and kissed her nose. "I was so scared of just how much I got lost in you. You, of all people. You changed for me, making yourself better, and I was scared because how could I do the same for you with all that I am." She kissed her chin.

"I am short, Quinn, and despite my tone body, I have a tendency to look like a child if I don't show off how much I am not one. I know I'm arrogant, though I've been trying to curb that," Rachel said, her fingers never stopping. Quinn's breathe was slowly going faster and faster. "I push people around, bossing them to do it my way, because I know better. It is the Berry way, or nothing else. I make the world center around me. And these are just the flaws you know about."

"You are-"

"Words, kitty," Rachel smirked, her lips just above Quinn's.

"You're, fuck Rae, please just," Quinn said, arching her hips and pressing forward as much as she could with another person on top of her. "You're perfect the way you are, I don't-"

"No, Quinn," Rachel said, "You see me though rose-tinted glasses, and while you accept all my flaws and don't see them as such does not mean they are not there. I need to fix that. And you taught me that."

"I did?"

Rachel licked Quinn's lips, her tongue trailing up to the tip of her nose. Despite her hand being engaged in Quinn's pussy, she didn't feel the need to be serious too much. "You taught me that I had to change if I wanted to be make someone happy. The divaness of me, the demand for attention and applause, I'm gonna work on curbing it."

"Why," Quinn gasped as Rachel squeezed a nipple harder than she originally wanted, but it felt so wonderful between her fingers, and the smile on Quinn's face said maybe it was just hard enough. "Why do you-"

"If I don't, Quinn," Rachel replied, "If I don't do this, I will push you away as I let myself get consumed by my desires to reach stardom. And..." She kissed softly, her lips barely touching. The only sound Rachel was Quinn's sharp breathes from her nose, but she didn't saw anything or push any harder than trying to get off. Though Rachel slowed down a bit, her fingers cramping a little bit. Lesbian foreplay second, or was it third, base was difficult. She didn't know how Quinn held out as long as she did."I don't want that. It's the last thing I want."

"Please , Rae," Quinn said. "I'm so close."

"I know, kitty," Rachel said, "just a little more and I'll make you feel wonderful." She cupped the breast, slowed her hand down and placed her head on her shoulder. "I was scared because of how much I want this, Quinn, of how much I need this. I thought Broadway was going to be my life, but you, with your craziness and hot as fuck tiger cock that is just for me, I can't simply walk away. You are part of my life, Quinn, and I refuse to let that part slip from my fingers."

"What do... God Rae, please I just want to-"

"Have you not cum since Sunday?" Quinn shook her head. "Do you masturbate?" Another shake. "How come?" A shrug. "Use your words, kitty, or I'll stop."

"I don't know how," Quinn said, turning her head. Rachel let go of the breast, slide her hand out of Quinn's pussy much to her displeasure and rolled so she was laying fully on top of the tigress. "I never did before and..."

"Never be ashamed in front of me regarding who you were," Rachel said, taking her head into her hands, forcing Quinn to look her in the eyes. "So you've been horny since Sunday then, right?" Quinn nodded. "Then you need to come to me for this until you learn how to please yourself, alright, I'm more than happy to help you, cock or pussy, it doesn't matter."

Rachel sat up and straddled her hips. "I want you to relax, kitty, we're going to finish what we started that night, so come on, bring that cock of yours out."

Quinn shuttered for a second, and pushed herself up until she was sitting straight with Rachel's pussy right above hers. "Rae, I don't-"

"We have about ten minutes left and that is more than enough time for you to spray all that wonderful cum that has never escaped your body. So hop to it and give me my cock."

"Your's," Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rachel just returned with a million watt smile. "Of course mine, who else would be using it. You aren't yet. So I think its best that we just trust me with it. So bring it. Accept whatever you need to do and get it out here so I can make it feel better.

She watched as soft glows over her body began, and slowly her ears slide up tot he top of her head, where little tiger, orange and black, stuck out of her blonde hair. A tail slithered out between her legs, well Quinn's legs, and danced just under her ass, which felt kinda nice, if she really thought about it. A little while later, Rachel felt the cock slowly grow, pressing up against her pussy and grazing her clit as she moved so it could finish growing.

"We're not going to fuck yet, kitty," Rachel said, "That'll be saved for when we can do it in your bed. For now though." She reached down between their legs and took hold of it. "We're finishing it right here. You're going to cum right against my pussy and then rub it in like a lotion. And I'm gonna walk around all day with it on me, a mark that I am yours for anyone to know. Are you okay? I don't know what normal relationship are for weretigers, given the attack hundreds of years ago, but if there are other animals, then they need to know that you have chosen me. That you will protect me and care for me, right?" She reached between their legs and grabbed Quinn's cock with one hand, and took her other one and placed it against her pussy.

Having a cock in her hand was so strange. While Quinn was abnormally warm, which made it easier for them to get partial naked in a freezing school, with the cock it was a bit more evident. Rachel didn't understand how something could be so hard and soft at the same time. And she knew she had small hands, but when she wrapped her hand around the cock, she had more than enough room for two, maybe more. The thought of suck a large dick in her hand, being hers to play with and eventually fuck, made her smile. "If you make me come, kitty," Rachel said. "Before you do, I'll make it worth your wild."

Quinn's fingers grew slightly warmer as the blonde started to rub her pussy lips. Rachel moaned and moved her hand up and down, like she had read and seen on the interwebs. Quinn grabbed Rachel by the hair, tightened it in her grip and pulled her flush against her body. She almost lost her grip, but held on and didn't stop moving, and neither did Quinn's as one, then two slid into her easily, which she expected because of how wet she was. Probably would need a towel.

"Oh, Barbara," Rachel said. Quinn curled her fingers and pressed down on her clit, then started to move her thumb around, shifting it back and forth, up and down. Her hand slowly moved, and Rachel could almost feel the entirety of the fingers in her, as she pussy clamped down on it.

"I don't like it when you say another woman's name, Rae," Quinn growled, and she felt her breasts quake from the vibrations in Quinn's chest.

"Oh...," she repeated as her not-girlfriend, she really, really, really, really, oh fuck.

Quinn started to slowly twist her hand around, curling her fingers slightly and pressing up against what Rachel could only assume was her g-spot, while her thumb continued to press and flick and move her clit and oh fuck. She really needed a new label for them. The other fingers touched her pussy lips, sliding up and down as the hand moved, touching them just enough to not leave them alone. "Faster, please."

"You first," Quinn said. She slowed down a bit, and Rachel squeezed Quinn's cock at the demand and action.

"No kitty," Rachel said. "You are mine, don't forget that." Quinn pouted against Rachel's lips but started back up again. "Stop spinning your fucking hand and just fuck me."

"Yes, Rae," Quinn replied, and started to do as she was told, pushing in much harder than before, but Rachel felt it. Starting at top of her hips and grew warmer and warmer. She quickened her hand in time with Quinn's now. Her other hand grabbed hold of Quinn's shoulder and held herself up, trying to keep pace. But her hand slipped off. Quinn didn't stop though.

Pressure was starting to build, slowly, growing in her as she felt warmer and hotter, and "Fuck," she said, leaning forward against Quinn's head. Her not-girlfriend just smiled and didn't stop. She kissed her lightly, pulling away, but Rachel wrapped a hand around her neck and kissed harder back, trying to fuse her lips to Quinn's.

Her thighs tightened, and she slowly felt the urge to use the restroom, feeling heat grow and build within her pussy as she squeezed against the fingers in her as Quinn traced along her pussy lips, her thumb still playing with her clit. "Please, a bit," Rachel murmured, her lips barely away from Quinn's. Everything was so warm, her breathe, Rachel couldn't breathe it was harder and harder to take in, she was hyperventilating as Quinn's hand moved faster and harder in her, curling her fingers tightly and relaxing them on each motion, her stomach tightening and the heat traveled up her spine, sending waves to her body, it was too much, too much, too much-

Rachel arched back, her toes curling and her knees squeezing hard against Quinn's thighs, refusing to let go. Her pussy clinched and tightened around the fingers. She pulled her not-girlfriend even closer, placing her head on her shoulder and just trying to fuse them together. She stopped breathing as her stomach shook and her nipples hurt so much but she wouldn't trade it for anything.

A hand rubbed circles on her back, under her sweater and shirt. Her thigh were cold, and something was hanging on her calves. "Rae?" She hugged the body holding her tightly, resting her head on its should

"Hmm?" Rachel said, she wanted to pass out and just be held.

"Not to sound horrible or anything," Quinn said. Whatever was real slowly came back to her, drifting in.

Rachel picked her head up and looked down. Between their legs stood a cock staring back up at her. She pulled away, but looked back at Quinn. "I owe you, don't I?"

"We'll be late to class," Quinn replied. "It's fine, I'll-"

Rachel kissed her and pushed her down again. "No, I'll take care of it, like I promised kitty, just relax and let me help you." She kissed her neck and sternum, moving down her body. Rachel always lived up to her word, and she did promise Quinn would have what she wanted, no needed. Never say that Rachel Berry isn't a giver.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Author's Notes: BWHAHAHAHAHAcough!cough!cough!sneeze... sorry bout that – so seventh chapter here, unbetaed but will be shortly, don't worry folks. Anyways, I'm actually doing some plot, at least following some of the things I liked from season 3, but whatevs. I do what I wants... that sounds so horrible from me... i'm sorry.

Moving on.

I like this chapter and the one that follows, I think it was fun to do more with Santana, who is slowly becoming one of my favorite people to write perspective from, mainly because of how varied and real she is sometimes... in fanfic, b/c Ryan Murphy fails at continuity.

As always, I do not own Glee. This is a tragedy, but can be fixed with your help by reading and review.

Because I can:  
SureralSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)

******

November 13th:

A day later and Quinn was still having difficulty wiping the grin off of her face. Despite Santana determined to make her face a permanent shade of red, she could not lose the good mood.

Rachel Berry, perfect, prim Rachel Berry had given her fellatio. Granted, this was the same girl who told the celibacy club that girls wanted sex just as much as boys, and she proved it. They reached third base, or she did, according to Rachel, and Quinn enjoyed it greatly. It was a nice reward.

After Rachel went down on her, they stayed in the art studio, talking, and missing thirty minutes of their next period, but Quinn was okay with that. They talked about their relationship, though Rachel had refused to move out of her lap, which made her concentration waiver a bit. Quinn worried, unnecessarily to Rachel, that they were moving too fast, already being more sexually active than she or her was ever before, ignoring the drunk night with Puck. For Rachel, she felt this was the natural progression of their, emphasis on the relationship between the two of them, feelings towards each other. Rachel's need for physical contact and Quinn's tiger-self just encouraged them to follow through and be as close as possible. But she did not feel that the pace was too much. Sex, or a home run as Rachel said, was not on the books for a while, but she would not give up her private time with her kitty.

They talked about where they thought the relationship was headed. While tigers did not necessarily mate for life, as far as Quinn's research could produce, she was a one and done. Well two and done really, but she tried to ignore her time with Puck, even though it produced Beth. Oh God, she was rambling like Rachel.

"Baby mama," Puck said, "I need you to taste this." He held a spoon out in front of her.

"What?"

"I know you're terrible at this cooking stuff," he said, "But you can at least taste things like you promised."

"Oh, yes," Quinn replied. "Is there-"

"I know how much you love my meat," Puck wiggled his eye brows. Quinn punched the jock lightly in the arm and he nearly fell over, almost into the two sophomores next to them. Both looked at the pair and turned away quickly, diverting their eyes so the HBIC/punk and self proclaimed biggest badass of McKinley did not notice that they were in their way. "Hey, watch it, hot stuff."

Quinn was not sure if he was referring to her or the pot he had burning what was probably chili. "That does not answer my question," she said.

"For you, always," Puck said. Quinn glared at him before taking the wood spoon from his hand.

She was forced to take this class in order to fill a spot, so she could still be considered a full time student, having more than enough credits to graduate the previous year. It did not mean that Quinn was decent at cooking, baking, or anything involving fire. In fact, she had burnt water before. She does not like to talk about it.

Puck was in this as supposedly an easy A, though Quinn believed that was more just the excuse he gave. Out of anyone in Glee, or even the school, he was the last one who would be thought of as artistic, because there was no other word to describe how wonderful his food was. Each thing, no matter what he made, was perfect and delicious. The first day he sat next to her and they were meant to bake cookies. Quinn had burnt her after a fiasco involving flour and an egg. Puck finished his and offered her one, just to rub it in. Quinn took it as she was not envious, and after the first bite realized just how much better he was than even Rachel at making things. She demanded that he be her partner for the rest of the class, and all left overs went to her. In part, to pay her back for impregnating her. Puck just nodded and smiled at her, and handed her the plate with the rest of the peanut and chocolate cookies that she did not share with anyone because they were unworthy. No one else but her knew how fantastic Puck was, and her cookie supply depended on the secret being kept.

The chili was not hot, but created a sensation of warmth that spread throughout her body, head to toes. "I used a beef based broth this time, along with some flank steak I smuggled in, thanks be tee dubs Just slightly underdone so when I threw the pieces in the chili finished it off. Vegetables were the standard Orleans trinity and-"

"Shut up and let me enjoy this Puck," Quinn said through a second spoonful.

After she went for thirds, which Puck had the audacity to cut her off, saying it needed to cook a bit more, he stared at her. "What?"

"So," Puck said, "You and Berry, huh?"

"What are you talking about, Puck?"

"Not that I can blame you," he replied, "She is extremely fine if you can get past the crazy." She tried to hold back the panic and anger: no one talked about Rachel like that, but she was not ready for this. "Don't worry, Baby Mama, I understand about keeping it on the DL. Just, you need to remove that 'I got me some' smile or everyone's gonna be asking questions and you're gonna be flustered and Santana's gonna get pissed for you-"

"I am not-"

"Quinn," Puck said, his voice growing low and soft, "Of all the people in this school, I'm the last you should lie to." It wasn't a threat, it wasn't even a reminder. He did not know everything about her, the tiger-self and her struggle with it.

"I do not want to talk about," Quinn replied.

"'s cool," he said. "Your secret's safe with me." He was spooning the chili into a few containers.

"Just like your's."

"Exactly, wait what?" Puck said. "What the fuck do you know?" Quinn smirked back at Puck as looked at her, trying to determine just what she knew, or rather, which of the things she knew. "Quinn?"

The bell rang, she grabbed two containers and stuffed them into her bag. "Quinn?" Puck repeated. "Get back here, Quinn. What do you know?" He stuffed the last of his containers in his bag and ran off, leaving the dirty pots and utensils for some freshmen to clean. 

Glee was boring. Granted, it had not started yet, but Quinn was sitting in the back row, trying to read through one of the many books she wanted to finish before the AP exam, waiting for Rachel to show up and, she guessed, Mr. Schue, but he did not seem that important.

"Hey chica," Santana said, throwing her bag onto the chair next to Quinn. "Where's the hobbit?"

"As I am sure you are aware," Quinn replied, "I am not her keeper, nor is she my responsibility, and therefore I should not keep track of her."

"Please," Santana said. "You're practically attached to her fucking hip. And I know you love it." Quinn fought a blush but turned away.

"Stop teasing her," Brittany said, sitting down so close to her girl friend that she should have just given up her seat and sit in Santana's lap.

"But," Santana started. Brittany put a finger over the Latina's mouth and smiled as she did.

"Be nice, Tana," Brittany said. Santana hung her head and nodded.

"But seriously though," Santana said, " where is she, she's never late to Glee. In fact, I'm surprised she's not here practicing wowing us with her fantastic voice."

"I honestly do not know," Quinn said, trying to keep her eyes on her book, "She mentioned something when she stopped by the art studio I was using-"

"So hot," Brittany said. Quinn raised her eyebrows quickly, her mouth open slightly. She felt her hands start to shake, but Brittany reached over Santana and took hold of them. "I mean the temperature, Quinn. Tana and I have had sweet lady kisses there, and we have to get naked because it's usually so warm and I don't mind, but she's-" Santana placed a hand over Brittany's mouth. She turned to her girlfriend. "Foo moch?" Santana just nodded. "Sawrry."

She pulled her hand back. "Quinn doesn't need to know where and when we've fucked, she'd try to avoid them, and that would probably prevent her from going to class."

Quinn closed her book, closed her eyes and tried to push the mental image, no matter how sexy and hot it was, of her friends having sex in the school. "Please, please, please tell me you did not have sex in the classrooms."

"We didn't."

"Actually," Brittany added. "We're trying to get all of them, as sort of a going away-"

"Britts."

"Too much?" Santana nodded. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Santana said. They paused their conversation as the rest of Glee walked in. At least one of her friends knew when it was time to stop having conversations like this. Brittany was learning, though tended to forget often enough that it could be annoying had she not been her best friend. Quinn gave up on teaching Rachel what "polite conversation" was.

Mercedes and Kurt walked in, gossiping about whatever; Quinn learned to tone them out, even with her heighten sense of hearing. It was just white noise now. Sam was right behind them, following Mercedes with ever the devotion of a faithful dog. Mike, Artie, Blaine, and Puck walked in, talking about some video game, Tina on Mike's arm, getting angrier and angrier at some of the stupid things that Puck was saying. It took a moment for Quinn to realize that she was calling the juvenile delinquent a terrible terrible human being for insulting Zelda as much as he was. In fact, she was more in charge of that conversation than anything else. Sugar and Rory came next, talking quietly and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Finally, Finn walked through the doors, trying to make it look like he was still important, still mattered in Glee, but Quinn knew otherwise. At least, she hoped she did. Rachel was hers; and that made her more important in Glee, she was seventy-six percent sure about that.

Mr. Schue walked in, and Quinn just heard the white noise of the Peanuts' Teachers. He was talking about some lesson they needed to learn about cooperation and working together. Part of her was worried about Rachel. Her not-girlfriend? Was that the term they were using now? She did not know and would have to have a conversation just so she knew what Rachel wished she called her, because the moniker "her mate" was a conversation for much later in their relationship. Her significant other was late, and had not informed her of where she was going to be.

Ten minutes into Glee, Rachel ran into the room and nearly fell. She held a few massive binders. Quinn would have gotten up to help her, but froze as she saw something that was new and vibrant about her. Santana must have noticed too, because she sat up straighter, smirking the entire time. Brittany clapped. The rest of the room was oblivious.

"Mr. Schuester, if I may," Rachel said. She put the binders down on Brad's piano and stepped forward to the center of the room.

She took closed her eyes, took an extremely deep breathe, and started speaking, opening her eyes back up so she could look at every single member of the Gleeks. "I'm sorry."

Those were not the words anyone was expecting. Quinn's book fell out of her hand. Mercedes and Kurt finally stopped their little side conversation and started listening to the diva, their captain. Everyone else just did not move and, maybe, did not breath. "I'm sorry that I have made some of you feel like that I do not care about you, that you and your talent is insignificant compared to mind, that this show choir was all about my dreams and wants, rather than the team's. As captain, I thought it was my duty to showcase the best talent, which at the time I believed it to be me.

"I was wrong."

No one moved or spoke.

"I was wrong to place myself above you. It was recently pointed out to me that as a captain, I am not the star, I should be the leader. I should be making sure that everyone matters, everyone is included and everyone is rewarded for their hard work, while also promoting the betterment of the entire squad. I am so sorry that I have failed you in this regard. There is so much talent in here, and rather then helping and ensuring we bring it out and make ourselves the best team and family around here, I was selfishly focused on what I wanted, without caring whatever you brought to the table unless it was about me. I am so sorry that so many of you have felt that I was belittling you, holding you back, or even insulting you because you weren't, and you'd be right about me doing that, and it's fully in your rights to hate me because of that.

"But, as someone kindly pointed out to me, it's time for me to end that. If it's okay, as your captain, I have selected some songs that will highlight and promote the neglected members of the glee club. I was no longer sing any solos, unless absolutely necessary, and even then, I believe that you, all of you, would be a better fit than I. Instead, I want to focus my efforts not on simply preforming and showing how amazing I can be, but helping all of you be as amazing and fantastic. I hope one day, I can make up to you the hurt that I have caused you. Until then, I ask that I remain your captain to ensure we win sectionals, regional and nationals under the star power of the Glee Club, not Rachel Berry."

"Hells yeah," Santana whispered.

"What the hell was that?" Mercedes practically shouted. Quinn was surprised at the other, less talented, diva's outrage. "You think you can simply waltz in here and expect any of us to just listen to you when you say that you can make us better? Who the hell do you-"

"How often do you practice dancing, Mike?" Rachel said. The club and turned to look at him.

"Ummm," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He was not used to this type of attention, Quinn figured. "About seven hours a week. Had to cut back because my dad's pressuring me to study more."

"Brittany, how bout you?"

The blonde cheerio smiled brightly. "About twice that, but you already know this, right Rach? We've seen each other quite a bit at the studio." Rachel returned the smile.

"Santana," Rachel asked, which the Latina practically jumped out of her seat. "How much time do you spend writing songs or playing your piano?"

"That was private, Hobbs," Santana growled and nearly jumped out of her seat. Brittany's hand on her lap stopped her.

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"I see what you're doing."

"I don't," Mercedes said, "Who cares how much-"

"I play my guitar about ten hours a week when football isn't happening," Puck said.

"I play that much or work on my videos," Artie added.

"Twenty hours a week," Brad said. The club turned to him. The man had never spoken before, and if he did, it was only a word or two at a time at most.

"We all practice and work hard to get better," Rachel said. "Though Kurt doesn't admit it many people, and I'm sorry for revealing this-"

"It's okay," he said. "I understand."

"He spends about sixteen hours during the week working on his fashion designs and learning about various styles and materials all to better himself in the field he loves." Rachel turned and stared at Mercedes. "How much do you practice?

"I don't-"

"Currently, due to the play, I've cut down my practice time from twenty eight to thirty hours, down to about fourteen. Once the play is over and I can devote my time to the craft I love and want more than anything to be part of, I will return to my previous schedule," Rachel did not look away, now practically glaring at the less-talented diva. "I have dance lessons, acting lessons, singing lessons, along with personal time that I take out of my day to better myself at my passion. If I wished to know about dance, I would ask Mike or Brittany, who are so far ahead of me that I can only dream I would ever be as good. Video, I'd go to Artie. Guitar and about five other instruments he doesn't speak about, it'd be Puck. If I wanted to play video games, if I had the time, and most recently, her voice as well, Tina would be the first person I'd look for, because I know she has started attending lessons with me, albeit in an entirely different genre and style."

"Rachel is all of this-" Mr. Schue started, but Rachel was not stopping her tirade.

"I'm telling you this, not to brag to brag or force any of you into the spot light, and for doing so, I apologize, but it is necessary to show that I am the most capable person in this room in regards to singing show choir, pop, musicals, and majority of mainstream music. You may be talented, but you have not, and probably will never put in as many hours I have. You haven't devoted your life and free time to this, despite the school's desire to bring you down and stomp on you because of your love of something.

"So Mercedes," Rachel asked, "how many hours do you practice in a week?"

Quinn knew the answer, the entire club knew the answer. Mercedes was rather proud of her talent and figured she did not have to practice, often bragging about it. "You are talented, but you can't rely on talent alone to get where you want to go. You have to work at it. If we want to win, we have to work. And I believe we can win without me singing, hence why I have this."

Rachel stepped back and grabbed the first binder, removed a stack of papers and started passing them out. She repeated the process with three other stacks of paper. When Quinn received hers, she was surprised to see staff paper filled with music notes and lyrics. A quick look at Santana's told her that the music was slightly different for her. Rachel passed out sheet music to the band.

"I have prepared and copied the set list that I believe will allow us to win Sectionals, along with various other numbers. After that, we can return to our lessons in humanity and other things that are just as important as success, I guess."

"Rachel," Mr. Schue said, "just because you are co-captain, does not give you the right to simply dictate what we are doing. I am still the teacher here and you have a co-captain to-"

"Finn's done nothing, Mr. Schue," Puck said. "He hasn't tried to lead us or nothing. I mean, kay once, he came up with the set list or something, but that is really it. At least here, Rachel is trying to make an effort."

"Coach always allows the captain's input and direction," Brittany said, her eyes focused on the papers in her hand. "It makes the team better, because there is a student leading them, not just another adult who might not know their ass from a hole in the ground." Santana snorted and the other Gleeks just stared at her. "It's not a dinosaur, sure, but a dinosaur doesn't really dance or sing, so we need someone who knows that. Rach does."

Quinn smiled behind her hand. "Brittany, I don't think-"

"Mr. Schuester," Rachel said, "This is the last chance for some of us to win Nationals. It'll take more than a last minute plan and writing songs in the room and a terribly timed kiss to get us there. We need to improve ourselves and work harder than we have before. And we need to do it as a team. Look at the last page in your folders."

Santana squealed. She actually squealed. It was the strangest sound that Quinn had ever heard and she had heard the sounds of a dying deer due to some rather strange circumstances. "What the fu-" Puck started to say, but shut his mouth quickly as Santana jumped out of her seat and hugged Rachel tightly, squeezing the girl so much that she could not move her arms and picking her up off the ground.

The two talked for a bit, with Santana swaying the diva back and forth slightly. Quinn reached down and picked up the paper that the Latina had dropped. "What's the big deal?" Finn asked.

"Santana," Rachel said, strained, but smiling, "If you could put me down, I'll explain to everyone why you're so not you at this moment." Santana said something again so only Rachel heard before lowering her back to the ground. "I was completely serious when I said that I am stepping back as lead vocalist, I am also stepping forward as encouraging our own talents and skills as part of this club. It's important that everyone, and I mean everyone get a chance to shine and show off how wonderful you are. Given by the list provide with you, I have included various songs, the soloists who would excel at them, as well as recommendations for possible duets, and group numbers. What Santana is so excited about is my insistence that we utilize her song-writing capabilities to further extend our boundaries. I have also included Noah as part of that. I also have listed the songs that both Mike and Brittany will have the easiest time to create quick choreography, as well as the ones that will require more work, though they would have the final say, since while I'm pretty good at dancing, they are miles ahead of me."

"This is all well and good," Mr. Schue said, "But I still think-"

"This is fucking awesome," Santana said, "That's what it is."

"Language, Santana," he replied. "It's fine and all, but I don't think that we should simply just have one person pick the songs."

"I understand and can see your hesitation," Rachel said. "And as captain, I was shown it is important to take charge, but also listen to the contributions of both my team and coach, in that order. You teach us, you guide us, but we are the ones who have to preform it. We are the ones who will be the ones on that stage, singing and dancing. We are the owns who must truly own it. This is me saying that I believe it is time we, the students, start taking more involved role in this club." Rachel blushed slightly. "If that is okay."

"Of course it's okay," Puck said. "This is gonna be so f-ing awesome. Satan, when you-"

"I have not made a decision regarding this," Mr. Schue said. Quinn glared at him. Rachel had done a fantastic job of providing not only songs recommendations, music selected individually for all preformers, as well as encouraging the skills and abilities of all the members, even the new one. "Finn, as co-captain, what do you think about this? Has Rachel discussed it all with you."

Rachel spoke up before the quarterback could oepn his mouth. "No."

"Why not?" Mr. Schue asked. "As this club is run by two captains because I didn't want this happening."

"Finn," Rachel turned to him. "Do you have any ideas or contributions that further the progress of this club?"

The group turned to him, staring at the lanky quarterback, and for a moment, Quinn thought he was actually going to contribute something this year besides trying to dig himself out of the holes he put himself in. Granted, it was wrong to expect so much from a boy, but when does a boy grow up. _When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things._

There are moments for everyone that test them and forces them to grow up. Quinn had hers first when she was eleven and became a monster. The second time was when she was pregnant through her own doubts and fears and insecurities. She forced Rachel to grow up fast by being said monster, through tormenting the girl. Santana grew up because of her own torment by the racist bigots, like her father, and then become the protector of a girl who struggled with sanity every day and Quinn. Brittany would never grow up, which was something she was thankful for. Artie grew up when he was paralyzed. Puck should have grown up when his father left, but with no guidance and help, he became the man-child of Puck. He did grow up when Beth was born and given away; it just took time. Her other friends might be grown up as well, they just did not show it, nor give reason as to why.

But Finn had not really been tested, not been shown how to grow up. And it was okay. Quinn knew that some people should not be forced to grow up early. "No," He said, turning away from the group. She felt sorry for the boy, and, at least somewhere in her, she knew that it was wrong to put him on the spot like that.

"It's okay, Finn," Rachel said, smiling at him. He looked a bit happier from it. Quinn did not like it. The tiger did not like it. "I simply figured that since I had a plan, I'd go through it. I didn't think to talk to you first. I'm sorry."

"It's cool," Finn replied. The goofy smile was not a good sign. This crush on Rachel should have been over. The diva saw to it, spoke loud and clear the day after the slushie and feather experience.

"And I encourage everyone to bring ideas," Rachel said. "This is our club, and Mr. Schuester, as much as you lead us, we also need to lead us, so please give us that chance. At least, let's see if this works."

Mr. Schue was silent, staring at Rachel, as though she were a puzzle. The diva was, but Quinn only knew the patterns and codes to figure it out, and she hide them well so she would be the only one who knew how. "Okay," he said. "Can everyone have something from Rachel's preparations for next week? If everyone thinks it'll work, we'll go with her plans. Sounds good?"

There was a murmur through the group. "I appreciate the initiative, Rachel, and the sacrifice you are making in stepping aside for the greater good of the group. You're all dismissed, and have something for next Thursday, kay? Good."

The Gleeks departed, talking animatedly about their binders and the music within them. Even the band was happy with the new songs and options they had. Quinn had yet to open the file. Rachel would tell her what she would need to know. Santana and Brittany were sitting in the back, heads close and whispering to each other.

Quinn walked down and stood next to Rachel as she started to pack up her back and her own binders, plural, god the girl had so many. "I am going to stop by the art room, finish up a painting, you going to be fine?"

"Yep," Rachel turned around and smiled at her, the glint of something sitting just behind her eyes. "Do you want me to join you? We can finish our conversation."

Quinn felt her face flush, and her tiger-self growled deep within her. She wanted to pull her not-girlfriend, they really really needed to figure out a title for each other, close and sniffed her hair, inhale everything that made Rachel so wonderful and-

"I need to go Rachel," Quinn said.

Rachel stepped closer. "Oh, why? Is," her voice dropped down a few octaves, "kitty feeling uncomfortable?"

"Rae," Quinn replied. "Do not."

"Fine." Rachel pouted. "I'll see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Yes," Quinn took a step back, taking deep breathes and trying to keep the tiger-self from forcing himself out and taking the diva in the choir room. "Mom wants to have a family dinner night as often as possible, and given that I am no longer in Cheerios, she is taking it upon herself to make sure I am home as often as possible. I still wish for us to spend time together after the play next week..."

"You have to sacrifice your time with me to time with your mom," Rachel said. "It's cool." She just smiled.

"I will," Quinn said, but paused taking a deep breathe. It was not difficult, though the tiger seemed to enjoy it more than anything else, but Quinn-self preferred to keep her language as formal as possible, if nothing else that the lack of formality made her not-girlfriend happy. "I'll call you tonight, yes?"

Rachel smiled brighter and reach out, picking up her hand. Quinn looked down as the small fingers wrapped around hers. The touch was warm, the grip firm, her arm shaking slightly as though it wish it could pull her in and hold her so tight that Quinn would never escape. The girl before her, the one she had tortured with words and slushies, and sometimes outright threats, wanted to protect her. Rachel wanted to give her everything that Quinn had missed out, had never really had. She wanted to offer her more than just the physical involvement.

It was light, the grip, but Quinn could not pull her hand from it. It did not smother her the way Finn's hand liked to, or hold her so loosely that she just could slip away without a thought, like Sam's. Rachel held her like she was a kitten, something to be held close and protected, but never so lightly that it could slip away and hurt itself.

"Be good, kay?" Rachel asked.

Quinn squeezed back.

"I'll talk to you tonight?" Rachel said. Another squeeze. "It doesn't have to be our standard talk, you know? It could be talk-talk. Would you prefer that?" Quinn shrugged. "Text me when you're free."

"Sure," Quinn said. She turned to leave but her hand was not released.

"I missed you," Rachel said.

Quinn looked back at the smaller diva, the girl, no, woman who had decided it was in her capability and power to forgive her worst tormentor, and further decided that she was datable material. "And I you," Quinn replied.

Rachel dropped her hand and gave a gentle smile before turning back to her music and binders. Quinn rushed away, Santana and Brittany following her. They did not notice Finn returning to the almost empty choir room that held one Rachel Berry.

November 14th

Rachel stood at her locker, trying to decide what to bring to her next class. While the teacher had yet to actually state they would require their text books, given the test today, she was positive she could squeeze in some extra studying on the physics test. She felt prepared, but over-studying was not a real word and therefore should be ignored at all costs, as a person could only be prepared with enough preparation for any task or subject at hand; it was not paranoia, just being minded of what was to come. She was sure she had missed something from the night before, given the constant texting and then long call with Quinn; not that she really minded, mind you, and Rachel was rather proud of her ability to multi-task, giving full attention to her not-girlfriend, a moniker they must really fix soon, while at the same studying for a test that she had spent the better part of a week, with the required working around both the play and other homework as well as her previous lessons in voice and movement. She was ready to ace the test, she told her self, and nothing could stop her.

"Hey, Rach," Finn said, standing next to her locker and looking down at her.

Rachel sighed. "I have asked you before, Finn, please don't call me by that name."

"Why?" He asked.

"Because it is not my name, and I don't like nicknames."

"Santana calls you it," he responded.

"No, she calls me many things, but never 'Rach'," she said. Rachel took her book out and held it in her crossed arms in front of her; better safe than sorry. The teacher had a mean streak and would probably assign homework after the test.

"What about Brittany?"

"Have you ever told Brittany what she can or can't do?" Rachel said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Walk you to class? I'm headed in that direction."

It was Quinn's job to do so, but her not-girlfriend had been caught up by a teacher concerning some stupid project that she was arguing against completing, something about not letting a misogynistic man decide what she should or shouldn't be writing about. Also, Finn's class was across the school. In the other direction. But the puppy-dog/baby face look he was pleading was enough to force her to say, "sure."

"Great," he said. He started walking without waiting for her.

Nothing had really changed. Rachel ran to catch up to him, while taking a faster pace to keep up with his longer strides. "Is there a reason you wished to walk me to class?" She asked.

"I had a question."

"That's good."

"It was about what I asked you yesterday," he continued, ignoring the blatant sarcasm she had applied to her words. Maybe it wasn't enough. She'd have to check with Santana about what the appropriate amount of displeasure and dislike was needed to pull off her tone.

"As I have stated to you before, Finn," Rachel said, "I have no time at the moment to tutor you solely. Even after the play, I do have my own lessons to attend."

"C'mon, Rach," Finn said. She glared at him. "I mean Rachel, I just need a little help. You said that you wanted to be friends right?"

"I did," she replied. "But I also said that I wanted to return to that friendship slowly, it has only been a month-"

"Right, it's been a month, we could just hang out and stuff, go see movies and everything, play video games at my place," Finn said.

"You mean the things you wanted to do while we were dating, yes?" Rachel asked.

"Well sure, but-"

"Finn, just because we are 'friends,'" She made the quotation marks in the air so hopefully he understood her sarcasm associated with the word. Rachel doubted that. "Does not automatically entitle you to my time. I said I would make an effort for you and the rest of glee, but it would be for the betterment of the entire club to do group sessions. Singers learn better with people, practice better by themselves."

"But I just want to hang out," Finn repeated.

"Maybe one day," Rachel said. She stopped in front of a classroom. "But not today. I don't feel comfortable with you yet Finn."

"Why not?" he asked. "I still don't understand why we broke up. I mean, I forgive you and everything, but-"

"You forgive me?" Rachel hated raising her voice, it was terrible for her vocal chords and given the play was approaching, this wasn't the satisfactory method of showing her displeasure, but it just happened. "You forgive me, for dumping you?"

"Of course, I mean," Finn said, "Santana probably put you up to it to-"

"What lies you spreading now Finnocence?" Santana and Brittany were walking past, holding pinks, looking perfect in their cheerios uniforms. "I'll see you in class, Britt."

"Kay," The blonde Cheerio walked away, well skipped would have been a better term, but most people couldn't do it as naturally or gracefully as Brittany did, and in such a manner that made it seem like it was just her normal walk, so maybe walk was the correct verb.

"I know it was you who told Rach-"

"Rachel," Rachel said, sighing.

"Rachel to break up with me. I know you're the one who spread the lies about me."

"What lies? That you're a minute man? Please, we all know how true that one is," Santana replied, leaning forward and glaring up at the abnormally tall boy. He was very tall, now that she looked at him. "Or how you knew about the various times she had been slushied since 'dating' you, and I use that word very loosely, given how you really cared about her since getting together with her over the summer, shown by how much time you spent with her."

"That's cause you were hogging her," Finn said. "You've corrupted her. Made her into..into.."

"Into what, Finnosaur? Into what?" Santana stepped forward. There was a crowd forming, McKinley students never could keep their noses out of other people's business, plus Santana tended to get involved in some fantastic fights. "Into a woman who can think for herself, who can actually look at her relationships and attempt to have an equal partner in them. How have I fucking corrupted her?"

"Santana," Rachel said, trying to step forward, but Finn pushed her back. Roughly. Against the lockers. Enough so she almost lost her breathe. And hit her head against a lock.

"You're making her like you." Finn was shouting now. Why was his voice so loud? It hurt. It hurt a lot. He apparently had decent breathe control to produce that much sound.

"So apparently there's something that wrong me with?" Santana replied. She was loud too, but Rachel expected that. With Santana there were two volumes. Loud and Ear-piercing. They hadn't reached the secon- ow, her head really hurt. Maybe sitting down would be nice. "How is being an independent woman, who won't let any one, man or woman walk over her a bad thing? How is fighting for your friends and standing next to them a terrible thing? You tell me fine, what's so flawed and wrong with me that I have supposedly turned Rach into."

"You made her into a lesbian like you!":

The hallway was silent. Rachel stood up quickly, the dizziness and pain aside. She moved around Finn and looked at her best friend.

Santana was broken. She had never seen fear or sadness on the girl, the former grower faster and faster. Her breasts moved swiftly up and down, eyes darting back and forth, but her feet stepped away so slowly. No one spoke around them, but it would be only seconds before the gossip, the stares, the pointing started. McKinley wasn't a kind place, and certainly not to those who were different. An ethnic lesbian? Slushing would be just the start of the torment. Santana stumbled a bit, her feet sliding on the floor, trying to grasp at something so she wouldn't free fall.

In a moment, she was darting down the hallway, away from the still silent, full room.

Rachel heard Brittany's cry, but didn't register it as anything but attention. Instead, she stepped in front of Finn and punched him as hard as she possible could, putting her weight into like Brittany had taught her, twisting her hips using her strong legs to gather extra power and her shoulders and hips to distribute that power to her tiny, non-manlike, hands.

It was Finn's turn to hit the lockers, collapse against them, and slide to the floor. Rachel didn't see any of it. She was running down the hallway the moment she pulled her fist back from Finn's probably broken nose. She heard a second pair of footsteps, felt a light hand grasp herself and then pull her towards a out of the way bathroom, the bathroom Santana had forced her into after she and Quinn nearly fucked in the school, which she still kinda wished they did.

Brittany reached the door first and started to open it, but Rachel stopped her. "Wait."

"Wait?" She was mad. Rachel had never seen the blonde this way; torn and hurt and angry were the three things that warred on her face. "My girlfriend has just been outed by the biggest idiot in the school and-"

"Quinn will kill him if her best friend doesn't stop her." Brittany paused.

"Why not you?"

"Because I will let her and help her hide the body," Rachel said, no hesitation or regret. Finn didn't just hurt, or worse, maybe break Santana, he hurt every person who was struggling with their sexuality, who fought with themselves through fear of nonacceptance to pain of dismissal and rejection. "And I know you are smarter than me, Brittany, that you could do it and probably better, but you haven't had to struggle with people hating you for as along as I have, people who disliked who you were just because who you were, who your parents were, through no fault of their own. Don't tell me you've suffered through that."

Brittany said nothing.

Rachel stepped forward and pulled her hand from the door, wrapping hers around it. "Santana will need you. But right now, she needs someone who's been there, even if its not the same. Quinn will listen to you, and I'd really like to get my EGOT before going to jail." The blonde laughed, wiping away her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said. Rachel just nodded. Brittany didn't need to explain why.

"Just go get Quinn, we'll be here waiting kay?" Brittany nodded, gave one last look towards Santana's hiding place, and ran down the now empty hallway to wherever Quinn had hidden herself. 

Rachel sighed. She leaned on the door, listening to silence within. Opening the door without another care, Rachel stepped inside and locked it before turning to look at the Latina hugging her knees against the wall, sobbing but quiet, almost motionless, into her legs.

"Oh, San," Rachel said; she ran to her friend and hugged her as tightly as she could, almost pulling the girl into her lap. The light, how was Santana almost weightless, girl slide in and let herself be surrounded by the only slightly shorter diva's arms. Santana wrapped hers around Rachel's neck and began to hitch her shoulders up and down. She felt a wetness form on her neck and shoulder, and the gentle shakes within the Latina. But no sound. She couldn't hear anything. Barbara, what would drive a girl to cry to with no sound.

Rachel said nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Author's Note: My god, I hate econ… So life has been a bit busy, to say the least, and I've had some school related things that have come up, thus preventing me from posting this. But that's cool and all. I hate myself for leaving you guys without something new, but I do place real life first, which I hate even more. It sucks being responsible.

now, come Nov. 1st, I am attempting NaNoWriMo, and placed a really really stupid goal of 120k. I doubt I'll get much writing done here, but I'll do my best to add to this when I can, when my novel-experiment hits a rough patch. I have one chapter in the waits, which I will post next Monday(Nov. 4th), so hopefully this and that will hold you over until then. A new chap of Invisible is up, and my short-collection has some things going into it as well. Shameless plug over.

So with that said, here's the next chapter, continue to read and review(b/c honestly, reviews are like crack for me) and remember that I own nothing of glee. If I did, we'd have a walking dead/ dawn of the dead situation going on the second episode.

Because I can,

SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)

November 22th

Quinn purred. It was not a common occurrence, but she was aware of the times when she felt so comfortable, so happy, which in itself was an oddity, that the glee, pun intended, god she was rambling like her girlfriend, yes girlfriend, they had finally finalized their relationship, had to escape.

There was little to be truly happy about during the school week however. After punching Finn, both Rachel and the boy, who deserved that title now more than ever, were suspended for three days. Only three thanks to Figgins desire to win a football game on Saturday, and that Rachel would have called the ACLU given Finn's actions in outing a girl who was certainly not ready. Though Rachel was banned from performing at sectionals, which would hurt them, but not cripple given the Glee captain's new attitude.

That meant three days without her friends. Santana did not show up to school for those three days, and Brittany had accompanied her the entire time. Glee was uneventful and somber, while the play practice was put on hold and a rushed run through scheduled for Thursday before opening night on Friday and the two performances on Saturday. In fact the entire school was quiet. An angry Quinn saw to that.

The Head Bitch in Charge was out and about for those three days, frightening everyone in her presence into submission and respect, but she could not be everywhere. The hockey players avoided her, as did some of the Cheerios and football players, but they were small in the grand scheme of things. There was work to be done and friends to protect.

Sue Sylvester said she was proud of how Quinn was protecting what was hers. That there was a reason she made head cheerleader freshmen year after all.

Thus, when Thursday came, and she watched as both Santana and Rachel sang a song about kissing a girl and liking it, she could not but help and join in, along with the rest of the female Gleeks. It was fun and meaningless, and no one thought of her as lesbian, which was even better, but it showed their support of Santana and Brittany, who had been outed as a byproduct but could not care less. Finn had tried to make things right, but one glare from Mercedes, which surprised her, had sat him down after he suggested a women's week as a means of showcasing how woman were important too. Quinn's inner feminism and tiger had to be held by back Santana of all people.

At the play practice, a dry run through, Rachel approached Quinn and they had a nice long discussion, sans any touching which disappointed her tiger-self, and she came away from that talk with a girlfriend. Which was so much better than a boyfriend, though Rachel liked to joke in their texting that she was the boy in the relationship, ignoring the penis she had sometimes.

Friday had brought some ease to the tension of the school, along with a hockey player thrown in the dumpster by Quinn after he slushied Santana. Right after in fact. The bastard did not have the intelligence to at least notice her presence and had to suffer probably a massive headache from the way he hit the back of the dumpster. She decided that it was unimportant.

Quinn also talked to Finn, when she found him alone in the choir room during lunch. The boy seemed so lost and unsure of the hatred he had received that any anger and frustration she felt disappeared. The tiger-self was not happy, but the Quinn-self knew better. Finn was remorseful for what he had done, knew it was wrong somewhere in him, but he did not fully understand.

So they talked. Took most of lunch, and some of their free periods, but Quinn listened as Finn just talked about all the things he did not understand or wanted to know more, and how he did not realize that no one knew about Santana being a lesbian was suppose to be a secret. His ignorance did not lessen his error, but at least, Quinn understood why and decided that to kill him now would be wrong. In a rare moment of kindness during the week, she offered to help him, to be a big sister to him despite being a bit younger than the boy. Santana did not like the decision, though Brittany thought it was wonderful and therefore so did the Latina.

Which led them all to Saturday, sleeping over at Quinn's rather large home on a coach in front of a large television, where she was only one sitting really, Rachel was lounging on her, back to the armrest, scratching the back of her neck, just in her hair line, as she rested her head on her shoulder, while Brittany was leaning on her other side, cuddling with a Santana, a rare and easily excited creature according to Brittany, so no sudden movements. Quinn smile and nodded, relaxing around the three people who the tiger-self felt comfortable around.

"Stop it," Santana said. 

"Hmm," Quinn replied, her eyes closed and just enough the touch of her girlfriend, and her best friend, and her protector.

"The purring," She continued. "I can feel it through Britt, and..."

"Aww," Brittany said, "I know that look."

"What look?" Rachel paused her hand, and Quinn wanted to growl at the lack of scratches. This was a sin and would not be tolerated.

"Britts, no," Santana tried to sit up, but a firm on around her waist prevented her from moving.

"She's horny!" Santana groaned and turned to hide her face in Brittany's stomach. "It's okay though, we can fix that."

"Now?" Rachel asked. The scratching had not started up yet, the hand was there tempting her. Quinn started to nuzzle Rachel in an attempt to convince her to start again.

"No." "yes." Santana and Brittany said. Santana sat up and looked away.

"Oh, that's right," Brittany replied. "Rach, come." She stood up and pulled the diva away, out of the room and quickly upstairs where a door slam informed the remaining two that it was alone time for their girlfriends.

"Your girlfriend is weird," Quinn said, smiling at Santana.

"Your girlfriend is crazy," Santana replied.

"I can not really argue with that," Quinn shuffled in her seat, trying to get comfortable again now that Rachel was gone. She had enjoyed the warmth and pressure the girl provided and without it, the almost empty house grew colder.

Brittany came running down stairs to the dark living room and grabbed her back. "Forgot something," she said, and Santana hid her face again.

Silence settled next to the girls after a door slammed shut. "I'm so so so sorry, Q," Santana said, shaking her face in her hands.

"Why?" Quinn asked.

"I think I might have gave Rachel... the idea that... well," Santana looked away, "she and Britts should compare notes."

"I do not see how that is a-" Quinn started but paused. "What kind of notes?"

"It may have been just after you went all hyper-sex cat on her, and she was gloating a bit about how you and all-" she waved a hand at Quinn's waist, at least tried to, given that she had not looked back at her.

Quinn sighed, keeping her attention on some sort of movie playing on HBO2. "How bad will it be?"

Santana shrugged. She shifted on the coach until she was stretched out and resting on the other armrest. "Brittany has a few."

"Notes?"

"Notebooks," Santana replied. Quinn finally looked at her friend. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that-"

"I swear if she comes down here with some crazy sex-capade that came from your girlfriend-"

"Your best-friend."

"Your girlfriend, I will..." Quinn had no threat really, but something was required. "I will make Brittany cut you off."

"You wouldn't dare," Santana sat up, returning the glare of the tigress.

"It would be your fault, you know that," Quinn said. "You are the one who told them to compare notes, which I doubt that Rachel even has any."

"Rachel, your girlfriend?" Santana leaned back down. "Not having excessive amounts of notes regarding her sexual fantasies prior to and currently involving you? The same girl who walked into Glee last week with over fifty pages of individually selected information for each member?"

Quinn groaned and fell forward into her hands. "And further more, you can not blame me for this. I'm simply doing what you can't."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"I'm the one who had to give your girlfriend the talk," Santana said, "I'm the one who womanned up and told her about her failure towards Glee. Things you couldn't do. You're the one wanting to fuck a sex kitten, pun intended."

"You are so cultured," Quinn replied. Santana had stepped in where she could not, or rather would not. She had hurt her girlfriend so much in the past, and now, the things Rachel needed at the moment was more than Quinn felt comfortable giving the girl. She did not want to her any more.

"I know right," Santana turned back to the television screen. "It's not a bad thing, just don't blame me for your fucking ineptitude."

Quinn did not say anything. Santana had been protecting her for as long as she could remember, even when it was from herself. They did not speak much about her sophomore year, and all the troubles that went with it, mostly because Quinn had a hard time accepting just what the Latina did for her, even when it was difficult and painful. Santana had her kicked off the squad in order to protect her unborn child. Santana was the one who kept pressuring Finn to cheat on her, just to show how much of a boy he really was. Santana was the who helped her deal with getting kicked out, giving up Beth, her struggling sexuality, everything. Santana protected her. Now, Quinn wanted to do the same, even if only lighten the load she was forced to carry.

"How are you?" Quinn asked.

"Hmm?"

"We have not really talked about this week," Quinn said.

"Is there anything I can say that will stop this conversation?" Santana stared at the television. She wrapped a blanket around herself and attempted to burrow into the armrest. Every once in a while, she forgot that Santana was a smaller girl. She was not tiny or anything, but the large voice, the large presence and strength masked everything that was physically her. Santana was a person who everyone knew was present and they would never forget it. Rachel too, in a different way. Maybe that was why they were such good friends.

It was rare, but there were times when she wondered why the beautiful Latina put up with Quinn's crazy life, why she kept with her when it was obvious she could have more, better, friends that would not hurt her like she did in the past. Things were better this year, they both knew it, but Quinn wanted, no needed, to make things better. Make things right. And it would start with her stepping up.

"I want," Quinn started, but shook her head. "I need to know what I can do."

"And if I don't want to talk about this," Santana replied.

"Then I am going to cuddle with you as a tiger until you do."

"Would human form be acceptable?" Quinn moved across the couch next to the Latina without another word. Santana slid into her side, resting just under her arm on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist.

They rarely sat like this. Before she was kicked out Quinn kept her distance from the pair, just as means of submitting to her father. After returning home, when she had struggled so hard with her sexuality and fought against it, they stayed apart. Only during the summer, when she was tired of fighting, exhausted from the tiger constantly battling her needs and wants, did Quinn let Santana curl into her. Or was it Santana let Quinn wrap herself around her? Did it matter?

"I came out," Santana said.

Quinn said nothing; her hand traced along Santana's arm, the other played with her midnight black hair, letting it just glide through her fingers.

"To my parents," Santana continued. "It was... okay." She squeezed tighter. "They didn't seem surprised or nothing, but... I could tell they were uncomfortable bout it. Like they didn't know how to respond. Catholic upbringing and all that shit."

Quinn just emulate the touch Santana that Brittany sometimes did when the Latina was upset. In a completely non-sexual manner. She kept her mouth shut and just nodded.

"I'm more worried about my abuela. She's... she's the one who taught me about myself, about God, about the earth and everything, she's... I can't describe how fucking awesome she is. This one time, I swear, this rando broke into her house, and while he was digging through her drawers, she tackled him, bound him to a chair and started to play Barbara Streisand over and over and over again, waiting for the cops to show up that she called an hour later." Quinn felt the Latina laugh, though there were soft pauses as though she had a hard time catching her brief to prevent another emotion from taking over.

"I don't know how she'll take it."

Quinn said nothing.

"Lima sucks as it is, and … and this is just gonna make it worse," Santana said. "School is gonna suck, it already does."

"Anything I can do?" Quinn asked. Santana said nothing for a bit. Some infomercial was talking about a better way to chop vegetables or something. It was annoying her. "Really anything."

"I know you talked to him already," Santana said. "Britts told me."

"Sorry."

Santana shook her head. "'s cool. I understand. Someone had to teach him some manners. Or at least warn him to stay out of my way." 

"Not about that."

"Hmm?"

"That it was you he forced out."

"Oh," Santana said and tried to burrow into her Quinn's stomach. "I'm not."

"It should have-"

Santana sat up and leaned into Quinn until she was almost touching noses. She had seen the black irises expand until they filled the eye, the tight eyebrows and almost nonexistent lips before, but rarely directed at her. "You don't fucking get to do that, you gets me?"

"Santana, I..." Quinn said. The anger disappeared, leaving only soft and almost wet eyes, glowing in the blue light behind her. Santana's face had lost all tension, all power, leaving only the tired, almost broken girl that she had seen that day Finn spoke freely.

She reached up and cupped her cheeks. "I protect you. I take care of you. It's my job to protect you and Britts and Hobbs from everyone else and -"

"Santana," Quinn interrupted. Her voice was soft and gentle. "Then it is my job to care for all of you."

Santana did not pull her hands away. Quinn leaned into one, just enough so there was some light pressure on it. "You have done so much for me, saved me when I could not save myself. Or would not. You stepped up and said "this is what I am going to do" and you did it. You protected me and made Brittany one of the greatest people I know. You have helped me and Rachel get together, helping her understand all the flaws I have that she does not know about. You have done so much, and yet I have never seen you do anything for yourself."

"It's my-"

"I know you think it is your job to take care of us," Quinn replied. "That you are my beta, my commander who brings down the wrath upon the world." She covered one of Santana's hands and rubbed the back of it with her thumb. "You are my archangel, delivering the news from on high."

Santana laughed, but Quinn saw the reflection of something glistening in her eyes.

"Remember what you told Rachel in the bathroom," Quinn asked.

"Which time?"

"You do spent an great deal of time in the ladies' restroom with my girlfriend," Quinn replied.

Santana laughed again, dropping her other hand, but letting Quinn hold one to her cheek. "She was your not-girlfriend at the time."

"Details," Quinn said. "Remember?"

"Mhmm." She knew which time, the one that really mattered, the one where she protected Rachel by forcing her to see the truth.

"You said that it is the captain's duty to take care of their squad right?"

"Of course."

"I have not."

"What?!" Santana tried to pull back, but Quinn had wrapped an arm around her waist and held the girl tight near her.

"I have not taken care of you. I have taken everything that you have done for me, protected me from, helped with me, for granted, and I can not express how sorry I am for doing so, how grateful I am that you have, or how much you mean to me. San, I know you see more than I do. Please, I need you to understand-"

Santana slid her hand to cover Quinn's mouth. There were tears now in her eyes. "Don't. Please."

Quinn pulled the hand away and gathered both in one of hers. "I know you can see how much your pain hurts me. That I have not done as I should have and cared and protected you."

"Q...," Santana was trying to push back, to force her face to look away.

"You and Brittany were the only two people I had this world," Quinn said. "And I have treated you so horrible. I have taken you for granted and I can never express how much that hurts me to know I have hurt you by doing so. You three are my life, San, please I need you to know that."

"Please," Santana shook her head, eyes remaining on Quinn's.

"So, do not hold this in," Quinn said. "You have spent so long saving me, it is time for me to save you. I will not let anyone else hurt you, okay?" A nod. "Good."

"I've reached my sappy quota for month, can we-" Santana said, finally pulling away, but wrapped herself tighter around Quinn.

"Terrible, terrible horror movies it is," Quinn replied, and practically pulled Santana in her lap. The Latina was lighter than Rachel, which frightened her sometimes, but she would help her, take care of it. She had not been a good captain, and it took one of her pack being hurt badly to see that. Quinn could fix that. It was not too late, and it was what her friend needed.

She surfed netflix until she came upon a horror film with only one star, which was not long enough, given that Santana continued to try to burrow her way into Quinn. The Latina was cuddly when she wanted to be. It was not Rachel, but Quinn liked it when she got to hold someone. She liked being the big spoon in the relationship.

"Oh, Q?" Santana said.

"Hmm?"

"If Rachel asks you to do something with wax, make sure you do a full shave before hand. Getting an unexpected body wax is not fun." Quinn stiffened slightly, but relaxed as Santana laughed into her. Things were going to get better sooner than later.

Halfway through the first portion, watching some due torture some other dude by breaking his fingers one by one, Brittany and Rachel returned at a more sedated pace. Santana was laughing at the poor victim on the screen. "We're watching this now?" Rachel asked.

"Yep," Santana said. "You'll still feeling guilty and or upset about what happened and are letting me pick the movies for the night. It's only right."

"But..but...but," Rachel tried to argue but Brittany pulled her to the couch, sat her between her and Quinn and pulled the other blonde as close as possible, so much so that Rachel was almost laying on the two, and on top of Santana slightly. Quinn did not figure out how this was possible, but accepted that the three woman in her life were close and safe and happy at least for the moment.

The Unholy Quad, that did not have the same ring and Quinn would never consider Rachel unholy, well, she could given how much the girl enjoyed pleasurable torturing her, the Unholy Trinity and Rachel sat/lied together on the couch, and she enjoyed the relative silence. Rachel and Santana had a tendency to be overly direct and present with their voices, and sometimes Quinn just enjoyed stillness, sitting or lying and doing nothing except being there. The tiger-self especially enjoyed it, but she fought the purring when Brittany's hand found her neck and started scratching during the second movie to keep that stillness. Quinn failed, maybe on purpose, she did not know.

"I swear to God and all that is holy," Santana grumbled from her lap.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked.

"Stop the purring," she replied, and looked up at Quinn.

"I can not," Quinn said, and Brittany did not stop either. Santana stood from her lap, grabbed Brittany's hand, and rushed out of the room, headed for the stairs. "Use the guest room on the other side of the-" A door slammed shut. "Damn."

"What's wrong?" Rachel climbed into her lap and took over the scratching detail, as was her duty.

"Santana picked my bedroom," Quinn said.

"For what?" Quinn raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend. "Oh. Do you..." She trailed off, but kept her eyes on the screen.

"It is up to you," Quinn said. The tiger-self was always horny, especially when Rachel was sitting so close.

"Can you just hold me and we just talk?" Rachel replied.

"Sure," Quinn said, she wrapped an arm around her waist and held her as she laid down, using the armrest as a pillow. She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and covered them.

Rachel snuggled in closer so that Quinn was lying on her back and she was practically a blanket for the blonde. She started to scratch her stomach instead of the back of her neck, which was probably a better feeling. "This is nice."

Quinn purred louder.

"I want to talk about what we've been doing," Rachel said.

"We are laying on my couch with you avoiding watching another terribly bad horror movie."

A moan pierced through the house, and Quinn was rather happy that her mother was not present to hear it. Probably why they, and they being Santana, did it. Just to taunt her. "Seriously, can we turn it off, or at least to something else to drown out their sexual activities."

"Sure," Quinn reached over her girlfriend and changed the movie to some childish television show she had never been able to watch while her father was living in the house.

"Digimon really?" Quinn shrugged and shifted on the couch, getting comfortable again. Her hand snaked under Rachel's overly large sweater, and she drew circles on her back. "Brittany and I talked about you and us."

"I figured from what Santana told me," Quinn said. "Should I be worried?"

"I know now where to get some reasonable priced sex toys when we're ready for them, but for the moment no." Quinn felt her face grow warm and fought a groan at the thought. Thankfully the purring did not stop. "I want to talk about our dynamics."

"Okay..."

"You don't take charge," Rachel said.

"Hmmm?"

"In public," Rachel continued. "We agreed that I would be in charge and thus dominate you in private, the bedroom and when we're alone. But you don't really do that to me in public."

"You mean order you around, command you to do things," Quinn said.

"Yeah, I-I don't understand it."

"Two weeks ago, Thursday, what did I tell you," Quinn asked, her eyes focusing on a little spot on the ceiling. Rachel paused for a second trying to remember, she assumed. "I said that we're eating lunch in the cafetaria, because you skipped three days worth of lunch, despite it being only vegan food. The Monday we got back, first period, before you heard Mercedes do her little tirade on you about glee and solos and stuff, I asked that you take it easier on yourself, slow down a bit at least a school. Even when you upset that day, you did. I am the one who decides where we are sitting and what we are doing during school hours, when we went to the mall, it was my agenda and you asked for my permission to do something, remember I said no and you did not argue?" Rachel nodded.

"I do not need to express it," Quinn said, "And it is not just you, Rae, it is everyone that lets me lead, dominate them so to speak. How often do you remember me not being in charge, not setting the path at which we follow? Excluding Glee, because I can not rightfully take that from you The slushies may not have been mine, but I continued them, encouraged them. Not just against you but everyone else too. They were done, most with my orders, explicit or not.

"I am the girl my father groomed me to be, the persona of in charge and passive at the same time, both a leader and a lady, so to speak. I was the perfect child for him, and he would have seen to it that I was either the top of the business world or married to the top, controlling it; all under his wishes, his wants, his desires and needs. I was a Fabray, but only because he said so. " 

"But with you, Rae," Quinn said, she did not reach to wipe away the tears that sat in her eyes. "But with you, I am no longer that, with you, and slowly with Santana and certainly Brittany again, I am Lucy. I am, for lack of a better word, happy."

"There's a better word than happy?" Rachel smirked into Quinn's bare shoulder, shifting the strap of her camisole.

"I am comfortable and safe and cherished and know that all the masks I wear at school, at the mall, in public, Rae, I do not need any more and I can let myself stop being in charge, stop being this person who is perfect all the time. I doubt that true happiness will ever be mine, but that is okay. My father held all the power in our house, and never let us forget it. I have done everything that someone else has wanted for me, until sophomore year when I got pregnant and things changed. I was under the control of people I did not want to. I could not be me. I am Quinn Fabray, HBIC and head cheerleader, menace and monster of McKinley High. And until you let me in, that was all I was ever going to me, a statue to be admired, a figurehead to be feared.

"In private, when we are alone, and I feel safe and comfortable, and ..." She trailed off. "I do not need it any more. I do not need to be in charge. For once, it is my choice to command, rather than forced. I can just be and know that I will not be hurt by the situation."

"I would never, ever, ever," Rachel said, her hand stopping for a moment, "hurt you Quinn."

"It is okay," she replied, She reached with her other hand and started the scratching again. "You will, I will. Relationships do not mean perfection, just commitment. And my commitment to this is because I feel those thing, Rae. Because you make me feel them. Even back over the summer."

"Okay," Rachel said, and snuggled closer.

"Okay?"

"Yep."

"Then why..."

"I just needed to know your reasons, to see that you are truly comfortable with this."

"Oh," Quinn said. She looked down at Rachel; her eyes were closed, a smile on her face, and the girl was pressing hard against her body. 

"And we'll talk about the notebooks in the morning, when Santana and Brittany leave."

"Notebooks?" Quinn felt her voice break a little.

"Yep, Brittany and I shared a lot of ideas, and I want to share them with you."

"We are setting boundaries tomorrow."

"Of course," Rachel said. "Whatever you want kitty." With that, she started to snore softly and Quinn had no chance to argue or complain or anything. She sighed, pulled her girlfriend closer and fell into a light sleep.

The tree shook violently, almost toppling over as the pseudo-storm passed through town. Only, nothing else was move. There was no houses being torn apart by the savage winds that didn't exist. There were no lamps broken, no mailboxes flying through the air, no bushes shredded. Nothing moved, except for the single tree on the side of the street.

The pseudo-storm dissipated, leaving tree shaken, still trembling under the effects of ever forced it to move in an unnatural way, yet remain stationary, alive. Lights flickered on the street, one by one, cascading down away from the tree, until the lamps in front of a single house shut off.

The man stood at the top of the tree, balanced on a limb. A whitish cloak that melded into the cloudy sky danced in the same non-existent wind, though he didn't shift at all. He faced the now darkened house.

Inside the residence, rested a beast of terrible power, one that needed to be destroyed. One of many in the town of Lima.

He tracked the existent of the pack through many histories and stories, back channel police reeports and barroom gossip. Three weeks of listening to locals tell tall tales and ramble on and on of terrible creatures within their town, folklore that no one really believed or could prove, even when some of them swore up and down. He watched the economy of the town, searching through the sales and distribution of certain items, taking careful notice of very specific meals the beat required. Two weeks sifting through the records of individual businesses that hadn't had the courtesy to digitize their records yet.

Standing still, staring forward, and taking in the empty movements of the house, he questioned whether or not this was the correct residence, or even if there was something present. He left the town a year ago, after no activity was sighted for four years, not expecting to ever return. But something drew him back here. Something terrible, dark, and everlasting. It was time for that beast to end.

A window opened on the far side of the house, behind his standard line of sight, and the beast jumped down in his pale imitation of human form two stories up, and took off at a sprint for the forest. He let it have its few minutes head start before jumping down from the tree and chasing after it, moving by its scent alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Author's Note: So due to both nanowrimo and Macroeconomics, these three updates I'm putting up[Dirty Paws, Invisible, and They didn't have the words] took a bit longer than I wanted. Dirty Paws will have the shortest chapter I've done in a while, mainly because I felt it ended best there, and what's gonna happen in the next chapter doesn't really fit with this one. But anyways.

I actually am finding a plot within this. Hell, in the next two chapters, besides the Faberry relationship progressing a bit, I am gonna further what I started.

Hey, so I'm looking for this fic. Rachel is diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue syndrome and has to give up her dreams of Broadway. I can't remember if its Puckleberry or Faberry, but I'm pretty sure its one of those. If you know of a fic like this, please comment and tell me. I would greatly appreciate it. Also, apparently Fanfic doesn't like my line breaks so I'm sorry if there's an issue with that, I'm looking at fixing it.

Sadly, I do not own Glee, or else Robin Thicke would never ever have been considered as an artist for the show to sing to. B/c fuck that guy.

Because I can,  
SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)

November 24th

* * *

Rachel stood her locker after lunch, attempting to decide how much she should bring to class, and given the amount of homework she had completed the weekend before, despite being curled most of it with her girlfriend and their friends(FRIENDS!) staying over Saturday, she was still unsure about classes. Thanksgiving break usually meant time for the teachers to pile on the homework or projects and her English course was no different, asking for a five page analysis due when they returned from said supposed break. Apparently, every teacher thought that they were the only ones who assigned worked, and their work should be priority. Thanksgiving was this week, and while the Berries lacked a full tradition, this year, they had been invited to join her Daddy's family in Pennsylvania, and Rachel wanted Quinn to come. She was an important part of her life, one that Rachel would not give up without a fight, and it was important for their relationship that Quinn know she was welcomed where Rachel was or will be. Ms. Fabray was attending the holiday with Quinn's sister, and while the blonde was invited, she made it clear that it was a token invite (from her sister's perspective), nothing else, so her girlfriend choose to remain at home where she could transform and deal with her full moon in a manner that was healthy and supported by her newly acquired Diva-Watch (name pending finding one that Santana didn't laugh at). Now, though, was the time for class, not thoughts of how Quinn looked under her, wiggling in pleasure, a train of thoughts that she found herself having quite often these days, but she never complained about it, because it meant having a significant other, this time a girlfriend, and that meant relationship, and that meant the right to perv on her partner in relationship, with or without said partner's permission.

Quinn gave it fully.

"What's up with Q?" Santana asked, pausing at her locker. The cheerio uniform still made her pause, given that a conditioned action took a while to remove, but she was slowly getting used to seeing the Unholy Trinity, at least two thirds of it, in uniform. "She complaining bout her pants again?"

"You mean the lack thereof?" Rachel replied. A notebook and her pencil case would have to suffice, in addition to the text book, for science.

"How'd you got her to wear old-school Quinn cloths consistently again is beyond my fucking comprehension," Santana smirked. "Looks better than punk-rocker though." The girl of their conversation turned the corner with the other third of the Unholy Trinity. Quinn wore a sundress with a nice yellow cardigan over it, her once short hair now had grown out a bit, and the punk makeup was completely gone. It was so close to the Quinn of her sophomore year, the one who Rachel first realized she liked girls and forced her to accept her bisexuality. That was a fun period, given her obsession with Finn, but that was the past now. The present held a fantastically hot girlfriend who was driven, caring, and attentive, qualities that Rachel found out were ever so important for her in a partner.

"You awake there, Hobbs?" Santana asked. "What's up with your girl?"

"A, I don't believe you can actually own a person," Rachel answered. "B, I have no idea."

Quinn was talking, or rather, whisper-yelling with The Mack, which was an incredibly silly nickname and arrogant, demanding the descriptor of "the" placed in front of name, as if there was only one who mattered. Rachel didn't know what. It wasn't her business. She wanted to know. She liked knowing things. Knowing things was an important quality in understanding life, not that gossip was good, but it made avoiding slushies and other aspects of bullying when she could.

"What the fuck's the skank's problem?"

Rachel shrugged. The bell would ring shortly, and while arriving late was the accented norm in this school, it was important to be punctual. She closed her lock, held her books tightly to her chest and walked towards her girlfriend and the skank. Quinn paused mid word and turned to her, smiling, the furrowed eyes and scowl gone from her face. She stepped towards her, into her space. "Hey," she said, and she returned the smile.

"Hey," she replied.

"You're both fucking disgusting," The Mack said. "Q, this is what I'm talking about. You can't-"

"I know what I'm doing," Quinn said, glaring at her. "I have this under control."

"Sure you did, so did Tish," The Mack stepped towards Quinn and Rachel, a growl cut through the air. It wasn't either of the two girls arguing though. Rachel looked over at Santana, who had approached and stepped right next to her captain, hands tight in fists, and shaking. "What the fuck-"

"Step the fuck off, bitch," Santana said. "Or I ends you." Her eyes flashed… was that green? Santana's eyes flashed a bright, emerald green, or Rachel was seeing things from the amount of testosterone in the air being produced by the women, or some other poorly worded metaphor. Despite being her thing, she really was bad at creating them, though Rachel would never admit that to anyone, not even Quinn.

"You…you're a-" The Mack stepped back. "What the fuck, Q? What's this bullshit? What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?"

Santana stepped closer and Rachel moved into Quinn's arms. She wasn't afraid of Santana, or Quinn, or Brittany (certainly never Brittany). But that didn't mean she had to be stupid and stay in the middle of what would be a fight. "Back the fucking fuck off, or I will make you wish I did end you, skank."

"Just…" The Mack stepped away and looked at Quinn, a sad, worried look, similar to one Rachel knew she wore most of the beginning of this school year whenever she looked at Quinn too. Girl better not have a crush on her girlfriend, so Rachel would take a page out of Santana's book and "cut a bitch" so to speak. "Just be careful." The skank ran off, away from them.

Quinn let Rachel go and grasped Santana in a hug. "Do you need Brittany?" Santana didn't relax. "San?"

"I'll be fine," she said, her voice hoarse and tired. "I have gym, we're gonna dodgeball."

"I thought it was basketball this week?" Rachel said.

"We're gonna dodgeball," Santana repeated. Quinn let go of her avenger, nodding. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will be," Quinn said. "You'll protect me, but I take care of you. All of you. Text if you need Brit, I'll see her before you do."

The anger slipped away, a smile growing on her face. "Nah, we have a meeting before lunch in one of the science rooms near the east doors."

Rachel paled. "I have class there after lunch." Santana laughed and walked off, waving goodbye. "Wait, what are you gonna do there? Santana? Please don't tell me… Oh Barbara, you better not. Not my classroom. I like knowing I don't have to-"

"You should stop yelling that in the hallways," Quinn said. Rachel closed her mouth. Her friends (FRIENDS!) were so dirty. "We do not want to get Santana in trouble, especially over Britt-time."

"That's so disgusting," Rachel said, turning to her classroom, taking Quinn's elbow in her hand. Her girlfriend walked her slowly. They ignored the bell. Okay, maybe there was a good reason for being late, but still, she knew this should not be normal for her. Punctuality was important. "How they continue to do that, especially with how unsanitary this place is."

"Says the girl who went down on me in the art rooms." Rachel blushed. Quinn leaned down and kissed her cheek then whispered into her ear, "Just think, we can take a page out of their book. Choir room is empty."

"I will not let you tarnish my sanctum."

"So auditorium is out as well?" Rachel blushed brighter. "Oh, someone has a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her?"

"Can we talk about something else, please, kitty?" Rachel whispered, trying to look as demurely as possible, making Quinn wrap an arm around her, pulling herself even closer. "Like what that was about."

"Oh… with The Mack?"

"Yes her, what is her real name?" Quinn shrugged. "Do you know and not going to tell me, or really don't know?" She shrugged again. "I hate you so much right now." She received a kiss on her cheek. "A little less, but still a lot of anger." A kiss on her ear, with a very light nibble. "A lot less." Quinn slide her hand down her spine, just to the top of her ass. "We are in public."

"I know," Quinn said, nuzzling against her neck.

"We have class," Rachel replied.

Her girlfriend sighed heavily and stepped back a bit, and they began walking again, this time at a swifter pace. "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Later?"

"Of course."

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Sleeping most likely, make just make a sandwich or something, maybe watch some trashy tv or work on one of my AP projects."

"Feel up to seeing people?" Rachel asked.

"Hmm?"

"I want…would you like to attend thanksgiving with my family, please?" Quinn paused, though Rachel kept walking, finding herself pulled back to the ridiculously strong tigress. Honestly, how she wasn't crushed every time she received a hug still surprised her.

"Really?"

Rachel nodded.

"You…you want me with… your family?" Quinn asked. "For Thanksgiving?"

"No one should be alone for the holidays or special occasions," Rachel said, looking down and away from Quinn. Her chin was pushed up until she looked into her eyes.

"You're talking about all your missed birthdays and sleepovers aren't you?"

"Those aren't-"

"They are, and I cannot tell you the sorrow it now causes me to know that I have hurt you so much," Quinn said. There were tears in her eyes. That was not acceptable.

"No, please, Quinn," Rachel stepped closer to her. They were really gonna be late to class; this would not look good on her transcript. Number of tardies and/or absences: one. So horrible. But Quinn was more important. She always would be. "That wasn't what I was trying to say. Yes, it hurt then, but you're with me and things are better now. So much better. I can… I can't tell you... Please believe me, Quinn, you here now matters more than anything in our past. I have forgiven you and Santana and everyone else so many times.

"But," she said, "I'm not going to forget. It would be foolish for me to do so. You three have earned my friendship. And I offer it freely without reservations or conditions. It is yours to hold and cherish. You have earned my love, Quinn, so many times over I've lost count. My heart rests in your hands. But know how fragile it is, know how easy it would be to break it, shatter it, destroy it. Destroy me."

"Never has anyone given me a more precious gift," Quinn said, her smile sliding into a smirk. "Well, freely and wanted. Beth is the most precious gift I've ever had to grace to receive." They didn't talk about her child or the adoption or her adopting mother/Rachel's birth-mother. For both of them.

"Of course," Rachel said. She stood up on her toes and kissed her nose. "Now, we are really late and-"

"It's like been two minutes, Rae."

"And we need to attend class as education is an extremely important aspect of our lives that should not be missed, so I'm tabling my question concerning what's going on with you and The Mack – Seriously, does she have a real name?" Quinn shrugged, smile wide and bright. "You're impossible." Rachel stomped the ground and turned away, feeling Quinn's eyes on her boy shorts that barely were decent, her short skirt rising in the air. There was a reason why she dressed this way, now some got to enjoy her efforts even more so.

Rachel arrived for class only four minutes late, and the teacher didn't even notice that she was missing, so she sat in her usual seat in the back, where she could teach herself the physics of physics that the other students seemed to fail to understand. Really, what was so difficult about the electro-magnetic field and how it affected particles? It wasn't that hard.

She hadn't lied to Quinn; she didn't meant to bring up their past. It was in the past, even if it still hurt to know that she hadn't had anyone really over, prior to the summer and glee club, since fifth grade, when the campaign of isolation and humiliation began, though it was in its infancy and Rachel wasn't the only target; her loud voice just attracted them much faster.

Things had changed now, and she had forgiven the Unholy Trinity for their acts (even though Brittany was a bystander, she felt those who stood by when acts like theirs occurred, it was just as wrong), so things were better for her. They were the best ever in fact. Finn had stopped harassing her, Glee was going wonderfully, her return to her lessons was pushed to the wayside, as she wanted to spend more time with Quinn and Santana and Brittany, maybe spent some with other people too, but she'll see. Right now, having an awesome girlfriend was enough for her.

Rachel smiled and returned to her textbook; things were going great. It might be presumptuous to think they couldn't get better, but she had faith that it was impossible to get worse.

)123456(

"Hey Brittany," Quinn said, sliding into her seat next to the Blonde in her Cheerio uniform.

"Quinn!" she replied, a bright smile of happiness and wonder. "You're dressed properly, well almost properly, at least not like a scary-goat anymore."

She laughed. There was never harm in Brittany's words, she learned that so long ago, and she could never hold that against her friend. "Yes, Rachel has persuaded me to give up the black clothing, at least for a bit. The jeans would be acceptable if, in her words, 'they showed off my wonderful ass so I could stare at it.'"

"Well, duh," Brittany said. "Girl's crazy."

"About me?"

"No, just in general. You should see some of her fantasies," Brittany continued, "I'm almost jealous. She's gonna ride you so hard. Saddle and everything."

Quinn dropped her head onto her desk, sighing heavily. Rachel had teased her most of Sunday after she left with selections from some of the notes she had acquired and wrote herself. It was illuminating, but Quinn had not expected something as odd as a saddle. "I would rather we talk about something else, Brittany, if that is okay with you?"

"Sure," she said, "not like this teacher has anything important to say. It's just calc." Quinn figured it scared the teacher a bit when Brittany returned the first test and scored a perfect. Then when she was asked to take it again, with him watching her, because the bastard assumed that she cheated, she wrote down every proof to the problems, taking the longest path possible, but showed concepts and theorems they had not covered yet. He left her and Quinn, by association, alone for the most part.

"Santana is struggling today," Quinn said, her voice just a whisper.

"I know, I heard." Quinn raised an eyebrow. "She texted me before gym."

"Good," she replied. At least Santana knew when she should find help. "She was really upset and, while Rachel and I were there, it was not good. She nearly lost control."

Brittany frowned. "That bad?" She nodded. "Maybe sexy-times will be moved up."

"Couldn't hurt." Quinn pulled out a pad and pencil from her bag, immediately doodling. The teacher droned on and on about some limits and how they approached zero and how crazy all this math was. If Brittany was not in her class, she would have fallen asleep every day. And probably failed. No, not really. Quinn knew she was smart and driven, enough that she felt she had a chance at Yale, but Brittany was something else.

So was Santana for that matter.

"I'll take care of our girl," Brittany said, "you just take care of yours."

A pointless quiz, in all senses of the word, was passed out, and they were forced to participate for once, though Brittany finished writing the moment the teacher tried to return to his desk. Quinn struggled through it; her mind was elsewhere.

Patricia 'Tish' Killian was a Scank, "was" being the appropriate word. Over the weekend, someone had tailed her into the forest and butchered her. The biggest issue was that she had been found by The Mack as a wolf, not a human, which meant that no one really knew she was missing. Her parents were in a panic, a manhunt was called for; things were going to get messy. At least the Mack was able to return her to human, resulting in what she was told as a more gruesome sight than previous. They would find her in the woods with no understanding of what happened, who had killed their child, and they would never receive justice in a way they understood.

Quinn did not want to see it. Any of it.

The problem, as she saw it, was that to kill a were-wolf in their animal form was difficult, given the supernatural strength and endurance they acquired as well as the healing factor. Majority of hunters were incapable of it, especially if the wolf had the drop on them, or in the wolf's territory. Both situations that would always be involved. The senses a were-wolf possessed were acute and specific, leaving little unknown to them. Their speed was far greater than her own, and the tigress had always felt she was extremely fast. She was stronger than them, yes, but that strength meant little if she couldn't hit them.

But Tish was caught alone. Wolves' true strength laid in their overwhelming numbers and pack mentality. So a lone wolf could escape and survive, but they were limited in their offensive abilities. So why did she not? Tish knew better than to stand and fight, let alone expect to win. She should have ran. Quinn would have ran. Survivor was greater than victory.

"Quinn?" Brittany tapped her shoulder. She looked up, surprised to see her standing with her bag in hand. "Class is over. I turned in your quiz for you, not that it mattered."

Quinn nodded. A hunter was in Lima. A hunter capable of killing a single were-wolf, and one of this caliber would know that a lone wolf was unlikely, they would hunt for the pack. Then they would find her.

Life had grown a great deal more complicated. She had Thanksgiving and her own transformation to worry about. Even if she remained of sound mind, her tiger-self wanted freedom, and it hurt not grant it so.

Sometimes, Quinn felt she just wanted the positive things in her life to actually last.

)123456(

Rachel locked up her practice room, returned the key to Mr. Schuester's desk, and smiled as she practically skipped out of the choir room. Her songs were coming along nicely, and she was pretty confident that today in Glee she would show Mercedes just what practice can accomplish, even if she could not perform at sectionals. In fact, Santana, Brittany, and Mike had a piece to perform, with the dancers the focal point of it. They promised her it would be great, and it would be a nice change from the usual song focus that Mr. Schuester favored.

The hallway was crowded enough, her mind wandering to topics of song, dance, and Quinn, that Rachel did not see the figure in front of her.

"What's up, Rach?" Jesse St. James said.

Rachel felt her glare form, the one she used very rarely, when something horrible had been done to her and anger, not sadness or frustration, was warranted. It happened rarely, but she knew every single time it had occurred. She hated the feeling that grew when it happened, but it was an accepted part of her life.

She tightened her books in front of her, her palms squeezing the edges as tight as they could, threatening to cut her open. Her legs twisted slightly, into a stance that Brittany had taught her, similar to the one she found herself using against Finn when he outed Santana. Her chest ached as her heart pounded faster and harder. But none of it really showed on the outside of her. Rachel hated how involuntary the reaction was, how extreme it had grown, but sometimes, she couldn't help it.

And she didn't mind it either.

"Jesse," she replied. There was no venom, no hatred, discernable in her voice. It was better that way. "What are you doing here?"

Over the summer, she had come to the conclusion that the majority of boys she had dated where poison for her, and now she was happy that she was done with them. Puck had grown into someone decent, Finn, however, was a bit dense, and Jesse… Jesse St. James had risen to the top of her shit list, which she was surprised she had one, because he didn't just hurt her.

"Still as beautiful as ever I see," he said.

"Okay, that doesn't answer the question. I know for a fact that U of K does not let out until Wednesday." Barbara, she was harnessing her inner Quinn, the ice within her almost frosting her cloths. The Unholy Trinity had taught she the value of herself, and while Prom was fun with him, looking back, she was just another thing for him to use against the gleeks, a tool in his arsenal of promoting his own life and ignoring everyone else's.

"You know my schedule? How sweet."

"Preservation," Rachel took a step back. "I've found that knowing when people are going to be around is good when you wish to avoid them." Jesse had attempted to humiliate or degrade everyone else in Glee, and even before her self-discovery forced on her by Santana regarding her failures as captain, Rachel understood just how much those actions of the Senior Plus had caused her friends (FRIENDS!). She had a girlfriend whom treated her better than all three of her boyfriends combined.

Jesse St. James was after one thing and one thing only: his own advancement. She learned this when he first "attempted" to help the New Directions, but ended up spying for Vocal Adrenaline, her mother specifically, and did everything they could to hurt them. Hurt her. Rachel choose to forget him, and happily so, especially with the summer going as it had. She let him back into her life and, once again, hurt by him. This was not the time to be made a fool, not when things were going so well.

"Rach-"

"My name is Rachel," She took another step back. He followed.

"Fine, Rachel, baby-"

"I would like it if you refrained from using any pet names either." The hallway was clearing out, and she knew she had class to attend. "Now if you excuse me, I have class." Rachel tried to walk by him, but a hand gripped her elbow and pulled her into his space.

"Babe, seriously, just-"

"Let go of me." She shook now, and her body wanted to react. But violence was not the answer. And she had already been suspended for fighting once this year, tarnishing her perfect record.

"What is with this hostility?" he asked, laughing, as though her pain, her friends' pain, was something to joke about. Was he really this blind to how he had hurt them, her? Had she been on this self-absorbed path?

"Let go of me, St. James," she repeated.

"I just wanted to talk."

"And I don't." Rachel stomped on his foot, as hard as she would stomp the floor during any diva rant, pivoted, and walked away.

Why? Because fuck Jesse St. James. You do not murder a bunch of chickens and roosters, and get away with it.

Fuck him and fuck whatever wind was up his ass that made him decided he should even fathom speaking to her.


End file.
